Where hummingbirds hum like held breath in flight,

And butterflies stitch morning to night,

There blooms a place beyond design,

A hush, a healing, a curve of time.

The flowers here are not just for show,

They lean to listen. They seem to know.

Native petals cradle grace,

In every stem, a sacred space.

A bench remembers laughter’s tone,

A pathway worn by feet, not left alone.

Hands once trembling find their rest,

As wings alight upon the chest.

A child sets stones where stories sleep,

A nurse walks slowly where the grasses weep.

The wind stirs not to move but to stay,

To bless what’s said and not yet prayed.

And when the world feels much too loud,

The garden answers softly and proudly:

“Come sit. Come be. Come feel this air,

Love hasn’t left. It always lingers here.

June 2025