The flowers are in bloom In this majestic tree That must have stood here For decades It still produces After all these years
The dandelions gather strength From the sun and the summer rain The grass is greener on this side The bushes that are to bear fruit Pull their energy from the soil Tirelessly filling our lungs With clean air
The sunset is beyond compare Painting the sky In all variations of orange and pink The silence of the approaching dawn Is only suggested By the grace of the setting sun
On the bench in this garden Sat Death casually Smoking a *** With a distracted frown on his face Waving away the passing butterfly Coughing from the depth Of his lungs And spitting out the slimes.
Sister: you look filled with the Spirit and Divinity as you sit there, about to meditate, next to your coffee and cigerettes.
Me: the good thing about spirituality is that there's no one around to judge you.