The Garden of Midnight

January 21, 2007

Leaning Tree Muir Woods

Steven Gelberg





in the garden of midnight lives a woman
who speaks in silence tending her
plants and vines snaking
through the shadowy trellis


to infinity where we pick the
flowers of the dark endless night
time in ourselves;

as they whisper to us:


this is the place you run from


in the garden of midnight grow the
memories of our deathly births
shimmering in black luminescent
ferns glistening in star light


the blood red poppy’s shiny
black leaves shimmer in the winds
undulations we do not know;
language we cannot hear


the tall grass points red thorns
towards black lilies blood red
stamens delighting in the dark
is all she knows:


we do not want to know


in the garden of midnight
the sand sparkles gray black
as the palm trees carry
sounds we cannot see



we dare not give









Paul Politis


2 Responses to “The Garden of Midnight”

  1. birdsword said

    I love the picture of the trees, which I looked at for awhile and finally noticed the poem below. The trees are ancient, and the poem ancient in its story. They go together so well. Thank you for all your beautiful postings!

  2. kimtelas said

    oh birdsword,

    I love that you got lost in Steven Gelberg’s trees. I am stuck on his work! I want him to add new photos to his page.

    The poem came from the writing prompts and ideas at Soul Food Cafe. That place has changed my life in that I have finally left my poetry box!

    Thank you, truly.


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