Another’s garden

At the meeting of three rivers
stood a concealing gate,
of what could be expected beyond
it was impossible to discern.
Ivy knots trained the eye
over a wall to centurie’s labour,
a garden of tranquility in form.

I stepped up to the keeper,
inquired as to how to visit,
the scent airborne was a balm
as he pointed to courseways.

The first water healed my body,
aqua vitre the essence,
memories of dashing into the sea;
a child to warm towels bound,
all embracing arms.

The second released my mind,
stress fled in the surfacing shimmer.
Recollections of kindred thoughts
returned blue and cloudless;
lain on my back, tree’s shade
framing a limitness sky fascination.

The third water gave strength,
my spirit contained burned brighter,
abilities of kindness, good nurture
coursed a well being outside self.

When returning later to the gates,
I found I was on the other side.

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