The Secret Garden of the Soul

Just as a storm-swept plain needs calming winds to blow over it’s anxious waters

To sooth and calm it's troubling riddance

She was wind spreading tranquility in a soul set on fire by worldly bliss

The roots holding together

The House of Chaos which sang songs of despair and struggle in the shadows

She was like honey to little broken pieces of her beautiful house

She in herself a medicine and a cure

To all those petty thoughts which renders a gentle mind incompetent

She was that little unvarying thing called hope

A bird that sings to her heart’s desires and flies over the largest of mountains

Free, unfazed, full of dreams and living poetry