Imagine a night filled with stars, thousands, no millions of glistening white stars as far as the naked eye could see.
Now do not leave the stars in their lonesome, for all children need a guardian. Add a crescent moon, a moon so pale, so cold you’d think it was snow.
What good is a sky if there is no ground? Give your sky a barren wasteland that reaches as far as the sky, with your skill you might have been God himself.
You must be thinking, “what an ugly place” but let me reassure you we are not finished yet. With time comes detail and with detail comes beauty, so let us now add the symbol of age and beauty.
In your wasteland add a giant cherry tree, old in age but simply stunning in beauty.
From the old withered branches of your cherry tree add new born blossoms, pure white with a hint of pink at their fingertips.
To the side and behind your tree is a plane of grass and flowers of your liking.
For such life to exist we need water don’t we? In front of your tree stands a cliff, strong and sturdy yet so sad and lonely all by itself. It sheds tears of life that form a lake which fails not to show how long it has suffered.
On the side of your lonesome cliff lives moss so ugly, it cannot go unnoticed.
With the moon’s rays of light, brown changes color and the moss illuminates all which is near in a bright yet faint glow of green.
It is starting to look much like a work of Da Vinci himself, yes? In a land so beautiful you must have inhabitants so add hundreds of fireflies, the stars of Earth.
In from every direction they come to dance and fly with one another above the cliffs past sorrow.
And the beings lucky enough to see such a paradise lie beneath the old cherry tree. These two friends, lovers, or perhaps even strangers, whoever suits your fancy… gaze in awe at that which lies before them.
Holding each others hand and maybe even cuddling, feeding each other the warmth needed for the two to withstand such a frigid night.
The wind occasionally sends its orders to the lifeless flowers which rest on their mother’s breast; giving birth to hundreds of petals, flying, flittering in the wind…dancing with the fireflies as if it were a coordinated spectacle, this petal dance.
This place, is a place were time has no power, it is a place so unique, so radiant…That shall be its name, I name this place “Radiant Garden”.
The Garden of Eve, a paradise, this is my Nocturnal Wonderland.
The first poem I ever did, made in late ’06
A big piece of imagery broken up as it should be read…
No changes have been made to it since.