Strange Garden

In the middle of nowhere lies a forest.

All around, nature is dark green, smells of sap and old dust washed down by the rains. Here are the old trees and walkways of long ago with pinecones crunching under foot. One must follow the path of the woodland people, then the animals, then last that of Mother Nature herself. There are many secrets in this forest, not many to be found.

In that forest there lies a ruin.

A colosseum, or with its mossy arches at least what looks like one. One cannot see if the walls hold up the crawling ivy or if the vines hold up the ancient walls. Not many know of this here. Not many dare pass through the gates although there are no doors to keep them out. They know not of Eden inside.

In that ruin lies a garden.

A sudden change to an awe of light green. Here you find ferns and flowers and grasses, a young forest of differing trees and wise botanics all soft with whispers. The lucky ones may even meet the gentle deer, savouring the sun's rays in the glassy patterns cast on the ground through the myriad of leaves overhead.

In that garden sits a tree.

Nature’s weeping statuette in the centre of a foot path circle of stone. It reaches out its branches and greets every soul and spirit with a wave. One cannot but notice this tree as it is the only one in bloom all year. Breaking from the swaying branches are the loveliest of pink blooms with petals so soft they fall like kisses in the silent singing breeze.

Under that tree sits the knight.

A God’s child, a king's knight wearing the purple cape and feathers of a fighter. Now the feathers graze the stones as the helmet is set down beside him, his hair falling free and gold like sunbeams in late spring. He notices not the blooms that fall to him, his cheeky glinting eyes now closed as he sleeps in the wind’s playful sun shade display. Today's battle is done, and so he will rest by his first love here in the garden.

PAX

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