I no longer walk barefoot through this garden of forgotten time
I no longer walk barefoot through this garden of forgotten time,
where the grass, once the silk of summer, now scratches my soles with memories,
here, in this enchanted soil, bloomed a flower that stole my soul,
an earthbound spell transformed into petals that sang to the touch.
Perhaps someone, a faceless traveler, came and stole it away,
leaving only the echo of their footsteps in the corners of my silent garden,
and I, left as a guardian of the waters, hold in my hands springs of longing,
that were meant to nourish its life, to lift its song to the sky.
Now, however, I no longer walk barefoot through this sanctuary of lost dreams,
the grass, once a caress of the wind, now cuts deep like the blade of a past,
and every corner of the garden bears the weight of an unspoken mystery,
a murmur left from times when the flowers were my confidants.
In this silence, I weave my thoughts with the threads of the grass,
seeking answers in the shadow of footsteps that vanished at dawn,
and I wonder if I will ever find that enchanted flower again,
or if I will remain just a keeper of water and bygone tales.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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