The secret garden
You came to me
like through a hazy dream
of lurid beauty veiled in mists
of unclear nowhereness
but more real than reality
directly from a distant past
of unknown and unconscious friendship
growing all the while clandestinely
like some strange secret garden
cultivated out of reach of any dirty hands
to suddenly appear in mature glory
opening some gates to paradise
that I was not aware that they existed.
Will it last, or is it just a dream?
The future hides the answer out of sight
for both of us, and I dare hardly even touch it,
this amazing dream of such unheard of beauty,
that I will remain enchanted
willingly, preferring never to wake up
to risk trepassing and to harm the tiniest portion
of this paradise of possibilities,
so intact a botanic garden
and so perfectly ideal.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 555 times
Written on 2007-10-06 at 16:08
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