My heart yearns for lighter fare,
for frolic and whimsy, a stolen kiss
mid-morning, and the day is yet ahead
with all of the promise the years once held
bright sun or warm rain,
either would do
it is timeless here
in the garden
the aroma of the earth is you,
the burning heart of stars is you
the breeze that holds the memory,
the foretelling wind
a single thought indulged,
over and over
detail slips away
until there is doubt once ever was
perhaps there was no sun,
no rain, no earth or stars
perhaps there is no garden
Chagall 2020
Alphabet City 
Beautiful! I like to think ‘there IS a garden’…
So do I. I’m pretty certain that there is.
^_^
Just a beautiful poem. I also feel that there is a garden, because I do not want to know otherwise. Thanks for the post.
Thank you. Appreciate your stopping by. —CC