the garden

Oct / 4/2002
I observe the great mountains and the sun that, as every morning the enigmatic landscape rises, ignites the nostalgia in my chest, my visual field meets my extensive garden that over the years I go through each phase of transformation due to its growth, the final results do not They are expected but necessary. each one of the flowers hides a secret that only a curious and pure soul can hear. The lilies hide the failed goals, the sunflowers those people who brought light to my life, the poppies the pain caused by loved ones, the carnations broken dreams and finally the gardenia so beautiful that is a symbol of the departure of a love. Actually the garden tells my story, the memories appear turned into a short film and it hurts, the first tear appears on my cheek followed by others, the lump in my throat is no longer tolerable but I feel an indescribable emotion so I take the knife and I slide the edge down my forearm each reddish thread dances on my pale skin, I understand my arm to the white rose that is next to me seeing how each crimson drop stains it red. my sight goes towards the dawn towards that sun that announces a new day full of life for some but for me it marks the last

oliver odom Skyler3020