The Half-Tone Garden

The Half-Tone Garden
Though it’s far from where the world should end
And it’s neither where the story started
This mysterious garden of such beauty
Made time want to stay over
Braiding wind hair with a length of dream
And with very, very quiet breathing
At first light it keeps the leaves asleep
And paints them thick with mystery
Grant that all those years come back
Summoned by the half-tones of the garden
You become the whitest fragrant lilac
Here, you are the dreamlike sweetest mandarin
And blood-red pomegranate
Gray blue petals by the bushes
By the earth laid open and demanding
Come descend and cover with the blackness
Then stand still, like they had been
Grant that all those years come back
Through the dance of unrelenting thoughts
Runs a pulse of half-forgotten yearning
There’s no time to love a shadow long lost
A dead-set flood of experience
Soon you’ll write down in your tears
In the desolate calm of your oblivion
The old ache, as cold as dying suns
And dreams that begged to live on
On your palm there’s an orchid
A corn rose on your heart
Memory chases the old wind
Regret calls from afar
Summoned by the half-tones of the garden
You become the whitest fragrant lilac
Here, you are the dreamlike sweetest mandarin
And blood-red pomegranate
Gray blue petals by the bushes
By the earth laid open and demanding
Come descend and cover with the blackness
Then stand still, like they had been
Painted watercolor pond
Germinated with your caring fancy
Your mysterious garden stands in blossom
And grows in blessed peace