Kalliope's Garden (a poem I wrote, about 8 years ago)
Twin mimosa trees adorn the fence
to the last house on Mount Elias.
Unearthly fragrant voices beckon
and sing of floral fantasies ahead,
beyond the turquoise garden gate.
He chased the world to catch a dream.
Quest ended, he returns to live
in full Hellenic splendor.
Along the garden path he walks,
between kaleidoscopic rows
of roses and carnations.
Westward, by the garden's edge,
dill and anise fingers wave
a greeting seen by no one,
while basil, bay, oregano, and mint
whisper herbal secrets to the wind
and mingle with a myriad
of otherworldly scents.
Heady from the perfume, he drifts
toward mosaic-tiled halls and slinks
inside. Gingerly, he tiptoes past her room.
To waken her would mean he'd have to share
a moment, one too many for Kalliope,
so long abandoned, toiling in her garden
childless and alone.
All Kavala knows this place. They gather
to drink in all its beauty, mesmerized.
"Breathtaking!" they whisper,
but Kalliope and her son never catch
a word. He lives inside his music, deaf and blind
to past and present.
Revivified, she scurries
into floral refuge. Her soul flourishes
in the sanctuary of Kalliope's garden.
In rest, there is peace.
copyright 1997 debbie paliagas
Very beautiful, Zaura. Seems very very personal. Sorry for my late reply =)