The Garden of Contentment

The warm breeze is laden with the balmy scent of a million flowers
The leaves whisper softly to one another, the tales of days past
Evenings, with the azure blue skies,
the golden rays of the sun falling softly,
Imbuing the fallen brown twigs with a shade of light,
glittering like gold amidst the tufts of soft, sweetly pungent grass.

The singing of the bees and the chirping of the birds,
like calls to a heavenly abode that tells you
of the beauty of the earth and the kindness of God

Where every whisper carries through the streams of sparkling water
so pure that but for its sigh you would never have known it.
Where every living soul is in harmony with every other,
and every fruit, leaf or animal craves for nothing more than what it has

Where every mellifluous sound serves to make the silence more complete
Where if one looks earnestly and long enough one will find the lord himself
Where the birds and the leaves tell the wind
of the sorrows long gone and the bliss of the world therein

Such a place there is, in the minds of men.
Such a Garden it is of contentment that once you pass its gates
not even the meeting of heaven and hell can make you turn back ever again.