The Garden

There always was
a rose garden...
even then
when I could
not see
I knew
it there
as surely as
stars sparkled
somewhere
in blackest night
scenting sense
with hope

And at
the edge
of disconsolation=s
abyss
the heavy
mantle proferred
as weighting
against the
endless fall
into illusion....

Came a gate
and
a garden
of roses
and you....

There for all
time
as always known
in joyful familiarity
restoration, repair,
and finally
rebirth in the nectar
of rose petals
rising to meet
the shimmer
of the stars