There is something about a garden
Something so real and so divine
A secret place, a silent sanctuary
It is a feeling difficult to define

There is something about a garden
That leads my heart to prayer
A place of safety to where I run
And where I find hope in despair

There is something about a garden
And being surrounded by creation
Singing songs of praise to God
The creator and author of salvation

There is something about a garden
That feels like mercy's ocean
And like a crashing wave upon the shore
I'm swept away with great devotion

There is something about a garden
That fills me with such great delight
Filled with awe and greatest wonder
On the wings of the dawn my soul takes flight

There is something about a garden
That I can almost see the hand of God
The foretaste of Heaven on the Earth
We walk where the angels have trod

In between I look

into the garden, hoping --


we'll be silent now.

I brought you to the secret garden
Where I acquire inner peace
Where I am finally myself
And can escape from everything

I trusted you enough
To reveal that I am weak
That I made myself a garden
To distract me from my feelings

But after walking through my meadows
And now realizing I was free
You became overtaken in darkness
And began chopping down my trees

You destroyed everything I made
Until there was nothing left for me
You corrupted all my plants
And transformed them into weeds

I still marvel at the hopelessness
That you brought up onto me
And I regret in having trust
That you would offer some relief

To accept that I'm only human
And can sometimes fail at things
But I suppose it is a stretch
To assume you're not a freak

I mean after everything between us
I do not expect an apology
Cause in the grand scheme of things
We allowed our forests of solace to freeze

Together.

As I look around
my poorly grown flowers,
Sparse,
and half dying,
you're the only one who has ever
sat in my garden
and told me how beautiful it was.

Garden's symphony,
Petals flutter upon me,
The grass blushed rosy.

he said he would bring me flowers;
i didn't know the kind he was talking about

he said they're the most beautiful i'll ever see
and he was right
these flowers don't grow from water though

for some reason they only sprout when my friend is around

he gives me the seeds, they fall from my eyes and caress my cheeks
sometimes, I catch them in my hands
usually I just let them go

but he is a generous friend,
always waiting around the corner

i like bouquets but he hates picking his flowers
so he flirts with my mind to capture my heart
and the garden blossoms

i used to hate him and his gifts

not any more,
i think they're graceful and they speak to my soul