The Garden

Written Feb. 13, 1998

I originally wrote this for Michelle Price a long time ago. It's a good sentiment, even if the relationship it was written for has changed.

Sitting alone in the dim light
Of a still and aging afternoon
My affections for you surface

A distant echo transports me
To another age, of youth
When I was alone

I enter a dark forest
An unknown longing
Pulling at my heart

I hear a moment of love amid the trees
Only broken by gentle laughter
Lightly echoing through the woods

I find planted in a small clearing
A wild garden, deep in the forest
With no direction or purpose, alone

I watched as a gardener came
And under her gentle, tender hand,
The garden flourished, grew

Tending the lonely garden
Taxed the loving gardener
But in turn, she also grew

Spirits like wild flowers
Blooming with love
A magic of its own

Change continues,
Perhaps the only constant
Some say love is no different

They may be right,
But I have to disagree,
Because your caress brings me life

© Matthew Rutherford 1998

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