The Patience of Gardens

The enclosed garden haf a peaceful air. Nothing untoward could happen there. The irises are famous and diverse No thorns to prick the finger or to curse. We sat beneath the tree still holding hands And let the peace we felt on us descend. But now I am alone I feel despair Where now shall I love, where shall I care? .. We cannot love another till we find A felt connection to the heart and mind When we’re anxious we cannot perceive The mind and feelings shuttered may deceive. Patience is so hard when we feel sad. The tears in our own eyes make us feel bad