In a garden of hanging flowers I walk upon fallen petals; Barefoot in their domain, A shade in their shadows.
Once i breathed their fragrance, Tasted their offered nectar. Each has held me captive If only for a time.
In my winter i saw them Shriveled before my chill. With me but a season Till i drove them away.
In my spring they lay still. No leaf would they turn Nor flower reveal; Lifeless in my gaze.
Yet hope is the new plant: Hung on corner rafter, In bloom after a frost, Green amidst the darkness.
And despair is its promise. It too has its seasons, And i know too well That winter comes quickly.