what if the garden was really yours all along?
that during its dying days it clung onto life from 
     your tears falling into the grass.
the wilting roses were simply conserving their 
     energy for the sun during dark days.
what if the garden is the only evergreen edifice 
     in this life, and only its flowers will remain long after you are gone?
and when you are gone,
     it is from your hands, your feet, and your mind 
that roots sprout,
so that you are one with it.
what if the garden was always yours because it 
     is your essence that gives it life.