My garden is bare
My garden of potential
Where did you go to?
Did you fly away with my butterflies
My precious butterflies, who merely sought a quiet place to rest
Or did you crawl away with my caterpillars
My dear sweet caterpillars, who only longed for the seclusion of my grass
Maybe you were blown away with my tulip petals
Oh my gracious petals, who desired but a sanction for love
My garden, my love
You are now so barren
For without my ants, what has become of purpose?
Without my flowers, what has become of growth?
And without my evergreens
Oh my brave evergreens, what has become of the past?
Only rain visits my garden now
Oh bitter sweet rain – tell me
Are you droplets from the heavens or you are tears of my soul?
Photo: Marvelling the perfect etchings of a leaf in Byron Bay, NSW