GARDEN NOTES

All day in the garden

and at night when I wake to it

at its moment I hear a sound

sometimes little more than a whisper

of something falling

arriving

fallen

a seed in its early age

or a great frond formed

of its high days and nights

looking at the sky

made of daybreak the morning sun

and the whole of daylight

the moon and the stars and the clouds

and of the rain descending out of itself

coming down to its own leaf

there is no trace of regret

in the sound or in the stillness

after the falling

no sound

of hesitation on the way

no question and no doubt