The Now Garden

I envision the low wall, ivy-clad and mildewed a stone relic of some-time' beyond this moment. The garden has not withered wild but has slipped through the years untouched by decay or an over-running disarray, but is as it ever was before the dawn of this day. Perhaps you also have imagined this same green and floral oasis, and there have composed a reality within a poem? In an hour or two, or perchance a hundred years from now we may peacefully great each other, there, in that ever present now.