I was in the garden when they told me the truth about the world.
This mysticism parted like a swollen rain cloud to the east.
Now we are left to seek solace among the forever stretch of land.

To spend our days like a crossword puzzle.
Filling in our positivity with small doses of pleasure.
Sweet tea, warm embraces, freshly fallen snow and unopened letters.

Crying wouldn't do us any good.
Arguing wouldn't expand our horizons.
The ferocity of our hope lights the sky with a thousand stars.

The roses growing around me have drops of dew resting in their petals.
I breathe out and feed them, they breathe out and feed me.
I sit in the grass and watch them until the dawn breaks.