I asked for inspiration to write a poem to a person who I have loved a long time. He stares at me and I can see his feeling, yet he never answers. I did cry about it and then asked in my heart for the inspiration to write a poem. The source of love always gives unconditionally.
That is what I send to you. Even if you are upset on Valentine’s day, you be the love you seek. You are indeed the source of it. God, whatever you perceive that to mean, is most definitely love. I know this. So send love to everyone you meet today and every day, they are part of your garden, whether you know it or not.
We can make the earth a Garden of Eden by making peace with each other and being love. That of course is the only peace treaty that works.
The hardest work in this world is to love thyself and be true. It is the personal work of a lifetime, but I can tell you, it is worth every tear. As I send love I feel love, that is the secret, I receive it.
I love you.
THE GARDEN OF EDEN IS LOVE
Love visits me,
As the love of my life,
For I am grateful to be alive.
Love is the garden resplendent with a bouquet of varieties,
Under perfect conditions each blooms,
Sending a fragrance that is sweet and seducing,
As nature celebrates life in pure simplicity,
Flowers encode the blueprint of peace and harmony,
Each flower is unique yet part of a greater life pulse,
The seasons change as moods move across the face of time,
Storms, sunshine, overcast and cold,
To remind us that nothing is permanent,
All lives and dies on time.
The love of life is the gift of life,
It is felt in the space between movements,
It is a silent visitor before sleep and on awakening,
For it is still with no agenda,
It is unconditional and peaceful,
It gives without return,
For love was always free.
Can humanity find this gift in this moment?
To bloom like the flower and send your sweetness to others?
To feel a deep gratitude for the gift of life and not waste one moment distracted,
To experience that you are not alone in this garden full of infinite possibilities,
For the waiter, the porter, the retailer and the stranger on the street,
Are the flowers in your garden,
Can you rise above the garden and feel the life that you are … shimmering?
Can you rain your sunshine on each upturned face and leave deep impressions … glimmering?
Or do you walk past lost in the patter of thinking?
Missing the smile that was awaiting your flower to open,
Saying the words that makes another flower bloom,
Understanding that all are connected in this magnificent garden,
None stand alone unless uprooted.
For the garden can only die when the flowers lose their root,
When nourishment is disconnected by ‘what is in it for me’,
When the gardener is looking ahead for greener pastures neglecting the beautiful garden he already has … but can no longer see,
As he uproots the beauty to impress others as a symbol of love,
He never realises it is his own beauty that is the greatest gift of love,
For love is not an object or arrangement,
It is your heart on your sleeve,
Exposed for all to see,
As you give it you receive it,
As love never leaves,
For this is the secret garden of the heart,
That I give to you,
Under all conditions.