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The Last Garden

oh the cast of a wild garden,
splendorous refuge for all of life,
trusting denizens of Spirit's pardon,
worries have none, all without strife,
trampled pathways thru lush velvet leaves,
perchers high up warble and shriek,
scramblers play like small furry thieves,
popping from burrows, taking a peek,

home to a clan of those who rain dance,
who live alongside the rivers and trees,
a partner in the delicate balance,
owned by none, all that one sees,
nothing but rain need to beseech,
to tend the forest and all creatures about,
given the gift of communing speech,
needing titles to call and to shout,

so each of the tribe was given a quest,
to roam through this Eden alone,
to dream a name that Great Spirit felt best,
joyful then return back to home,
a vision, her name became Strong Deer,
a vision, his name became White Crow,
one near deaf was called Mouse Ear,
then Tall Bull as his dream would show,

Singing Goose dreamed of great fowl,
one dreamed Butterfly on a Flower
and her brother now called Black Owl,
all names given from Spirit's power,
and this is how all were known,
thriving in nature's embrace,
knowledge of now, all need be shown,
no fear of mortality need they face,

a day of clouds traveling low,
brought men who wore hard shoes,
friendly they or seemed it so,
throughout then spread the news,
share paradise with a new found friend,
as more of them would arrive,
many came, the garden might end,
how could the balance survive?

then they started cutting trees,
and hunted more than their needs,
only to start charging fees,
the garden filled with weeds,
in time there came so many,
and met the clan and said,
for all there isn't plenty,
your clan needs leave this stead,

so soldiers rounded up the tribe,
and set them out afoot,
the horrors then they to prescribe,
the clan where now to put,
marched for months in rain and sun,
many died for lack of food,
if not for love, there would be none,
to survive this treatment crude,

then fell the snow to this crying trail,
so deep and cold it got,
the fearful soldiers chose to bail,
and help the people not,
soon the storm would stop,
this deserted clan alone,
maybe from a mountaintop,
they might then find a home,

they climbed this peak oh so high,
and scouted the lands around,
spotted a valley near the sky,
a plush garden had they found,
but a problem yet to cause a stall,
was impossible to find a way in
except for a roaring waterfall,
it was blocked to their chagrin,

two days hike with blistered feet,
to reach the wall of water,
to enter would one's end they meet?
or to this garden they'd enter?
they looked around with nothing to lose,
from hell they tried to rally,
to enter this fall they would choose,
and pray it led to the valley,

one by one they entered the crack,
waiting a second in fear,
to see if someone would come back,
and tell them all was clear,
White Crow was alone and took a breath,
and entered the pouring wall,
but he met not then his feared for death,
went through the falls with a call,

inside this beautiful place,
of fruits and plants and trees,
created from Great Spirit's grace
a garden of creatures one sees,
a butterfly kneels on a rose,
a goose lets out a loud squawk,
a large bull stands over those,
a black owl begins to stalk,

a glance in waterfall's direction,
a joyful white raven flies,
is Spirit's caring protection,
from coveting human eyes,
for only the innocent can start,
to the valley where all can be,
true from Spirit's heart,
the last garden, hidden and free.

© 2012 Luke Aditsan

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