Friday, April 9, 2010

My Garden

You are a flower
Planted in front of the tree
Referenced as light

Stuck in soil
Very to near to my conception
And my tomb stone
Near to me

I can never be quite sure
As to why you exist in a space
That makes up my story
But ever so often
You are slightly pretty
A painful sort of beautiful

I wonder if this was orchestrated
If the conductor of my garden
Wanted you here
Making music with your pedals
Playing softly in my ear

It is a mystery to me
As is all else

This garden was planted for more than me
Slightly more that my bent tree
Trying so desperately
To grow a little more straight
A little more tall
With a slight wind of acting
Like I know what I am doing

I still wonder
How you made it into the scene

Closer to my tomb than my conception

Maybe in everything
There is a least a little speck
Of meaning

1 comment:

Blesful Thinking said...

"I can never be quite sure
As to why you exist in a space
That makes up my story"

this line is amazing.

sometimes you hear or read something, and think,"damn i wish i could have written that"

that was this piece for me.

very nice.