My garden is not just alive.
The animals form an orchestra
Yellow Cardinals sing the chorus
Jay Bluebirds chirp the melody
Latent Crickets tap the rhythm
And the Falling Sun is the director

Suddenly, a sound like no other
A smile lights up my dark face
As the Great Owl soars above
Lone Owl gives its exquisite call
Atop the chimney of some house
Calling for who I will never know

Taking a deep breath of cold air,
I live in the moment, the now, the present,
I forget about miseries and problems,
That seem so trite and banal now.
I watch the universal Sun slowly set,
And the hue of the sky darken on cue.

I watch the beautiful night fall,
Lifting my face up to the stars.
The trees, dancing with the wind.
The clouds, incessantly drifting.
If only I could be them.
Finally, I take one last breath.

I smell lemons lingering in the breeze.
I taste fresh, crisp, mountain air.
I feel free without burdens or nuisances
I see my garden not alive but dynamic.
I touch the rough, harsh walls of my house,
And regretfully descend back into reality.