Different gardens

Followed into your mists.
After all the years 

Couldn't deny my Indian spirit.

Might astonish 

At marvels of your science 

And still find my peace 

In gardens made of

Things Jesus would have deciphered.

I was a disciple of Deep meaningless-

Ness,

Buried so much like a plant

Into the thoughtfulness.

But beyond nature nature of 

Myself would understand 

That in both gardens

Was I just a man.