Sacred place, of quiet solitude and serene secrets.

The heavy air breathes, dripping with hushed silence;

Bodies buzz with each resonant exhalation -

Aum...

Soul-charged and entranced I watch, drunk on its perfume -

Garden of Delight.


Here all beauty has its source; nurtured in glistening pools of sweet amrita,

churned in gurgling ambrosia falls,

matured in nectar-filled cups of night-lily and moon-tulip.

Life trickles down from the rocks, and behold, the rocks live!


In this corner silver-lipped azaleas jostle and huddle in chattering groups,

gossiping like schoolgirls.

Over here rainbows sprout among the undulating swathes

of graceful amaryllis,

and the irises sing so sweetly from the rock-garden,

that to hear their syren-call, silky-bright, would leave you forever empty

listening for the call again.


Glowing fuchsia-bells hang

from clematis-necklaced branches,

reaching down to stroke the cheek of the unsuspecting passerby,

while tiny, elfen shapes frolic in the bird-baths,

or dart twinkle-quick through the diamond stems of dancing daffodils, too quick for sighting.


The orchids stand alone,

their proud heads held aloft in quiet contemplation,

and the cumulus-soft moss-mounds purr

in the dark corners, inviting the weary traveller.


All things thrive in the stillness

of perpetual moonlight,

and the gentle pulse of creation;

the air is thick with their laughter. 

Discarded dreams fall in sparkling showers -

magic grows here; wishes bloom and seed

among the sleeping freesias.