Wandering around inside my mind,
A garden holds memories.
Each a blade of grass,
an insect buzzing one of many flowers.
To white walls and loving eyes we are brought into this world,
where unseen hands tend new experience
that thrusts instantly towards the open clear skies.
Our minds lush with planted beliefs and seeded memory,
and fed by the warm light of laughter
or the cool rains of gray days, they flourish and spread,
or curl and become distant.
And for a time we sit, and hold our ground,
stake out our spot on the grass amidst the Trembling Aspens and shout out to the world,
But as we lay back and look up at the leaves shimmering in the wind and sun we wonder,
how much of this garden