In the Garden of a Mind

I pluck petals off the flowers of my imagination I lay them down and press them between the pages of my heart my garden of words is well tended with inspiration flourishing with the bloom of each beauteous verse each effortless line I plant a word in paper-earth and fold the soil in the sacrament of giving I pour water replenishing Gaea watching it steep to life I burn compost its leaves of paper-guilt curling up to nothing renewed again in a feather of ash hanging a wind-chime of words in a chorus of dawn eddies, my poetry sings, alive