1 minute read

Eden at Giverny

Heaven on Earth,

Where one may happily grow old and weary. We dance in the warmth of new birth, Barefoot through the night we run, Anticipating the venomous bite of the serpent. One race, maidenly untouched hitherto. Poisoned for eternity.

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It is easy to lose to the plush purple, I succumb without a fight to its majesty. Growth delights my senses beyond imagination.

The soft earth beneath my feet, It has just rained hasn’t it?

Underneath the rocks and stones the water is Flowing, Flowing, Flowing!

Windows of hope excite ideas, Possibilities of something more real.

Something different to feel,

Such as the sun-soaked joy of mornings in all seasons, Or the morbidly gray afternoons full of thunder and darkness. Who decides our lows and highs?

The pathway has been beaten year after year, Spring after Spring,

Perpetually I do not feel a thing.

Every time I open the doors here, An intoxicating circus of greens and purples clouds my eyes. The rain falls hard, without notice of its start.

She frolics in the meadow,

Towards knowledge and truth.

Away from all painful anxieties in the basement. Joy and love, banished from the basement.

The garden is steady,

The garden is ready.

You’ve known this whole time haven’t You?

Hope erodes each time I read that this could have been different. We could have been saved, The illusion of the garden haunts me.

But who is to say the venom wouldn’t have stung some other way? Him?