the balustrade is the point of entry
bamboo guides the way
from that world into this

a tucked away place
where nature is curated
collage of color texture sound

spring is in urgent bloom
birdsong and waters stream on a loop
the rush of cars, never far
reminds you that the city keeps its beat
and doesn’t miss you

so stay, breathe wander sense
pursue the path that beckons
into courtyards
over bridges
inhabit every nook

relish the passing palette
revere the aged trees
note the clouds that thicken and thin
take your coat off, put it on again

descend into a grotto
full of stone and bleeding hearts
see the muck, don’t step in
emerge blinking in a swarm of gnats
up the hill, climbing climbing

now rest
on a bench named for someone
who also loved this place

find the words that fit
pluck and pin them one by one
follow the trail of mysteries
that leads you back to who you are

you cannot get lost here, only found
the only place to go from here is home

-Atlas cedar
Morris Arboretum
Philadelphia, PA

08.09.18