Walls separate, walls shield, walls crumble
A sprawling walled-in hideaway
A sacred spread of greenery
A haven of bliss and tranquility
Secluded from raucous sound and sight
A rippling, meandering rivulet
Glided around rustic rocks and trees
Flowering shrubs and blooming stalks
In tune with nature's wondrous hues and tints.
Alone in the vast embrace of earth and sky
Sheltered beneath the cloak at dawn and dusk
He sat and mused with his rocks and stones
And penned his mystic melancholic tones
In zen-like reverence; lamenting, eulogizing
Bemoaning his long-departed love
Who left before her time in that cloistered garden
They snugly tilled and toiled, away from all.
Bereft now of human warmth and touch
He nursed and tended the flowering plants
And gently nestled her favorite ones
Grieving with each remembered loss and pain.
One day in May when the sun was out
Half-hidden by a cottony cloud
A gust of wind swirled around him
Rustling the winsome sweet Forget-me-not
As he knelt to caress the wavering plant
The wandering wind gushed swiftly by his ear
As she whispered, "Take heart, do not fret, I am here"
He felt her essence deep within, but the wind was gone.
He clasped his hands as the tears fell,
And praised his caring, doting deity.
He lingered long in his wooded habitat
Amidst fragrant scents and chirping insects
And song-birds zigzagging in the air
Deriving strength to meet each dewy day.
And it came about, one day abruptly
When he felt the stab within his heart -
A call to relinquish all that's stark and earthly
And in zen-like meditative stance, take his leave.
He felt his knees buckling as he weeded,
His legs stiffening and his chest suffocating -
His mind spiraled toward a passing cloud
Hailing it as he reached out for a ride.
He cried to his deity
Yielding a reality that came his way.
He heeded the call to smash the wall
That protected all in his secluded hermitage
To let them fade and fall like all things archaic -
His rocks and trees and worldly whims.
I watched as he bade adieu to what he cherished most -
The tears oozing like his roving rivulet
Streaming down his barren neck and heaving chest
To reach the nooks and crags of his grieving heart
The time is nigh to scrap this brief temporal span
And return to dust what once was dust assuredly
And retreat sublime to the void of Zen tranquility
Eternally thus entwined with the rustling wind
In a garden anew with seeds of love and affection
A heavenly harvest reap forevermore.