better ways

the men that speak of worldly things 

say so much that is complicated 

layered with philosophies, opinions, twisted stories 

they speak and speak all the time 

the words are so important always 

like the central thing 

this is kind of sad 

for there is so much more that speaks without 

words 

and you must know friends!

the garden, it speaks of wonders all the time with 

beauty so sweet and delicate 

it falls it's rain of blossoms darling, pink, violet, blue 

gold 

like magic dots of color within a space of emptiness 

it blooms of microcosm and macrocosm as an unfolding 

concert would burst it's music to the audience 

capturing their hearts with enticing sounds 

it reasons with it's sayings of look at me!, how i grow 

so silently without the need of doership, effort or anything 

but grace 

it writes it's passages on the pages of life better than any thesis 

written by professors 

of how it's workings are mysterious, deep, rich, hearty 

and magnificent 

it whispers too with those voices soft, wispy, as the leaves 

rustle with the winds

it lets the pleasures of the senses delight in just being and enjoying 

well i would say, the  garden speaks 

in better ways than those complex speeches of the world