On a slow meander down shaded garden
paths, the air alive with insect sounds,
scent of yellow honeysuckle beckons,
leads me into a garden room with a
bench, a triple fountain, red Geraniums.
The air is calmer here and I sit in silence.
Overhead, leaves rustle and birdsong
accompanies, without rhythm, the quick,
head-held-high dash of a green lizard
seeking shelter behind Terra-cotta pots.
I watch a bee working the blossoms
thinking only of his industry there, my
mind indwelling this secluded beauty:
the Sparrow's chatter, the water's song,
the dance of light and shadow on stone.