Behind the Garden

A poem I wrote a long time ago about my own personal journey for spirituality.

As silence awaits

A tumbleweed travels by

No answers to how or why

It just rolls over time

Standing there

Observing everything we share

Sitting upon the cushioned chair

We know now what deems fair

As silence breaks

The cursing begins

Not to tell who will win

And despite the average thin

Gaining insight

On what chooses to be

And through naked eyes we see

The wind blows towards the breeze

Taking time off

To relax and reflect

Never do I cross my bet

It will soon be time to forget

Changing now

To a closet that has been closed

Dancing in the new naked pose

Something drifts by and it shatters gold

Deep within

The man who I ought to be

Something we never see

And that man is me

4/25/2010