the garden

The garden

        this is my corner
              half- hidden in sight
        and i, a world apart.

        outside—
              where time and man
        fleet in confusion

        here are calm, calm afternoons.

        where trees are fires
        at the coming of dusk
              and dancing around them—
                  are host
        of butterflies,

        and of mind
              more seduced by beauty
        to reason,
        blind.

        but we all dwell in mystery
              he who knows, may not mean he
        who sees.