The Garden Must Envy

Watchful gardens, vigilant grow,
tread thy touch men high and low.
Falling chaos, thunderous sound,
a stark truth which doth redound.
Bathed in blood, flushed with green,
light and darkness thou hath seen.
Many a’season hath thou stood,
yearning sentience, innate though good.
O! poor welcome of the living,
ponder I upon thy misgiving.
The walk of all men thy abode,
paths and endings, serve thy ode.
Live to watch, breathe to bury,
envy the fallen, thou wilt with hurry.

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14 thoughts on “The Garden Must Envy

  1. I had a moment a while back with the 150 year old trees in the park over the road, where all of a sudden their presence was felt as truly living, like standing next to another more dense, stranger, slower breathing form of life. And I wondered what they must think about all that racing around and carry on they have to witness, and then, without us, their beauty could not be celebrated either. Thanks for the reminder! Nice work.

  2. …thunderous sound,
    a stark truth which doth redound.
    Bathed in blood, flushed with green,
    light and darkness thou hath seen.

    – It is an installation artwork 🙂
    So vivid. Beautiful.

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