September 11, 2012 § 44 Comments
My secret garden has
rare vegetables with peculiar
names and strange shapes.
Herbs that are twisted, that
will cure you and yet let you die.
Ah! All the fruits that are an
Plants that talk to me, and
make me lose myself. And
flowers that make me dance
to the unheard rhythm.
All colours. Beautiful, they are.
And i love them all.
But when this visitor drops in,
he doesn’t see a garden. He only
sees crazy cycles, spiky things
that might hurt him, muted dreams,
Thats okay i guess. He does
not necessarily have to understand.
That is why it is a ‘secret’ garden.
And when i crawl into his
secret garden at night, i see
it’s so alike!
It’s not this well manoeuvred row
of bushes. It has
thorns and open edges
and dangerous tools.
And i realise he and i,
are the same. So are our