Oasis among the trees
The steps are uncertain
Sight not as sharp,
Slow steps marking
a path on the grass.
Escaping young joggers ,
darting as in the dark
Blind to you and me,
as straight lines
are their only paths.
Programmed to ignore
the other justified rights.
Now target in view.
Slowly the searching was ending,
but the pain was plain.
When railings are
now locked and in chains.
Railings from the Old Triangle
Where the real Clock stood
And the old Tree
Gave comfort to the old like me.
In silence and frozen
I stood in wonderment.
What happened to the beloved
Subtropical oasis among the trees.
The music of the waterfall
came to silence, forestalled,
what fortunes await the fish pond
Are the goldfish no more?
Alas, no response found.
Moments on a cold Sunday afternoon
My granddaughters froze to listen
To the guitarist
accompanying the waterfalls.
Exotic plants in pots,
Radiantly watch the
old banana tree as an afterthought.
Cacti flowers, their colours
Defiantly shine on invited artists
who had an eye for watercolours.
Far away from their desert sands
and heat igniting memories denied.
The long moments passed
As a dream
Now time is here, to make
A slow turn and sadly
Say goodbye to this
oasis and promise
To return as a new human
To welcome a new age,
of others for me to understand.