Memories of the Butchart Gardens

I visited the Butchart Gardens a year ago while visiting my twin brother and his Husband. These are my thoughts of memory.

Butchart Gardens

A year has passed

yet I see the path as if I had just stepped on it,

stone curving gently forward,

pulling me deeper into the garden’s breath.

I remember the hush of the place,

the way colors rose around me,

bright tides of pink, yellow, red,

woven into green so carefully

it felt like walking through a painting

that had chosen to open itself.

The air was soft,

carrying the damp sweetness of earth,

and for a moment time loosened,

not a schedule, not a plan,

just the pleasure of being small

among so much beauty.

I had come as a visitor,

but the garden claimed me,

folded me into its memory.

Even now,

back among the days that move too quickly,

I can step into that curve of stone,

and the year between

falls away.