Secret Garden

There is a garden I love that is not mine. This garden is an old garden and there is a spirit and a feeling there that does not exist in mine - for mine is a new garden - just a toddler learning its way. This garden has the soul of those that have tended it, gazed upon it and loved it before. It is a wilder garden and has an innate strength and will to survive and thrive and create its own design.  It seeds itself and survives only on what nature provides; nutrients from the soil, sun and rain.  When you sit near and listen it plays a music that is its own. The buzzing of the bees, the wings of the hummingbird, the song of the wren, the wind rustling its foliage.  When I breathe in and smell the sweet scent of the peony and feel the sun on my face I have found a little bit of heaven.  A piece of my heart is with this garden.  It is not mine but I love it just the same.