Behold, let's vision take your heart!

Garden,

Where iron like father reminds brothers

Of their consanguinity, averting bloodshed.

Where beasts, tired of roaring, rise and

Gaze at the sky, and are there so many 

Of them 'cause they have a different

Vision of God?



Where low bird brings the gold of

Sunset and all the might of it's

Conflagration; lions dream, having their

Faces on pads.

Garden, garden where wolves lick cold

Iron and the glance of a beast

Means more than wisdom itself.



Garden, we haunt with ease-

Feral in the masses

Garden, man-made cosmos.



Where eagle falls downwards like idol

From temple roof, 

And sometimes he seats with a wings so

Strangely spread.

Does it seem for him he's 

flying high over the mountains? 

Or does he pray?

Or is he hot?