The Garden

…of the heart’s desire

There is a shattering silence
a melancholy refrain
and I hear it mocking me
I lift my head and turn away
it still haunts me
all this pain
in the farthest reaches
of my soul

peace is a distant rapture
that I clutch at
like a memory
a silken thread
that is hard to grasp
but once in hand
like a spring stream
with the melting of the snows
it slowly grows

there is a still, reflective silence
without a source
I sense a slow, still, centre
growing deep within
I feel the roses
lifting their faces to the sun
and shyly, revealing their hearts
to the waiting sky

I hear your voice
deep inside me
in this tranquil dawn
there are long seconds
where love
makes each quiet moment
an eternity
and tends the garden
of the heart’s desire
© Ann Bagnall 2013