Meditation: a Poem
My Secret Garden
'Tis but a short walk right through here....
a few steps down the flagstone path,
I walk where willows sway.
Around the brush, I climb a hill,
and gather cones from under pines.
Over yon a brooklet falls
keeping carefree time to the music that it plays.
Below the fall, a fawn has stopped
to sip the crystal drops.
Deeper still, this garden goes
to a place where the red-fern grows.
Sitting down upon a stump,
I hear a cheeful birdie song,
and light of heart, I rise to leave,
my soul refreshed; my spirit lifted.
I come here once most every day and see
a thousand sights--unchanging;
No trespass can despoil this spot,
no dangers does it know.
You see, the gate is locked:
my mind, the only key.
About This Poem
Originally written back in January of 1990, if I recall correctly, it was inspired by the wish to escape a gloomy, rainy day. But even at that, it was one of my 'born whole' poems that I refer to as gifts from my muse.
They come to me all at once; nearly fully written; myself and my pen, only the scribe to jot them down. I made a revision in April of 1993, and another tweak in May of 2010. The latest, and I believe last, small change was done in February of 2018.
I hope you have enjoyed this trip into my private 'happy place.'
© 2010 Liz Elias