corpse planted in the garden

an hour or two of rest and then to mark
not time but action with a searching eye
we know that in short order comes the dark
white clouds make bluer the encircling sky

hours come and go and we are made quite sure
that all must heed the moments passing by
not one who's certain what they must endure
white clouds make bluer the encircling sky

romance and treachery become the signs
that indicate the bounds of truth and lie
the tree of life chokes underneath the vines
white clouds make bluer the encircling sky

a touch of breeze moving the topmost leaves
enclosed in silence we hear no birds cry
the one who claims to know truly deceives
white clouds make bluer the encircling sky

the signs of order are not always clear
whoever claims to answer we'll deny
peace has its place in the autumnal air
white clouds make bluer the encircling sky

words not yet spoken someone may repeat
just as the springs of wisdom may run dry
no stars appear as guides to honest feet
white clouds make bluer the encircling sky