Dan Enache Poet Free verse

The Enchanted Garden

The Enchanted Garden

What use would an enchanted garden be, if I searched for the flower and couldn't find it,
maybe it melted into the alchemy of the seasons, turned to pollen of the moon,
or maybe I myself hid it under a spell, in some corner without a map,
buried beneath the snow of a dream I no longer know how to conjure.

Maybe I picked it only once, wove it into my heart like an incantation,
then fled before the petals could fall into the ash of dusk,
believing that leaving was the hardest spell in all our alchemy,
not knowing that its staying inside me would be eternal, like a fixed star.

But you keep coming back, like a ghost who never heard the farewell chant,
like the moon that follows me down any road I take, away from you,
your fragrance still casts spells long after you've faded from the room,
I close the doors at night, but your shadow keeps the lanterns lit inside me.

I tried to conjure other flowers, gave them false suns from my own ashes,
but none of them held the magic of the love we once began, you and I,
you were the first enchanted flower I ever called my own,
the first love, the first moment eternity felt like a true spell.

Maybe I could forget you if you stayed beyond time, in some other incantation,
if you stopped returning every time I learn a new charm of forgetting,
but you come back, and I become sixteen again, enchanted and without a map,
who knew only how to love you as if no spell could ever break it.

So tell me, how am I supposed to undo the spell of a flower that keeps blooming
in the enchanted garden I keep trying, in vain, every night, to forget?

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