Garden

In fields of poppies waving in the breeze
I dreamt a million years awakening
with nothing but memories
of places I had never
been but had
only wanted
to be
in my
heart I heard
the distant roar
of the surf racing
up and down the shore
before the storm came in
and rearranged everything
which had been familiar and
comforting; who cares what I
or any person wants when each minute
the earth plays dodge ball with the asteroids
while we argue with our relatives and spurn our
neighbors under the watchful eye of the sun and
unaware of the ever churning heavenly spheres around us;
at night the stars call to us in our sleep but we are too tired
from our chores to notice which one has our name upon it and
the serpents sunning on the hill behind us in the spring live season
by season in hiding from mankind, if only I could fly again like the angel
who walked me through Eve’s garden when all things were born and beautiful

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