Walk in my garden
By Izak R. Crafford
For: Miss Kirsten Dey who inspired the writing of this poem.
I stroll in the garden and in among dense leaves are blooming things,
Their scents hang in the air about me
in a tangled web which no eye can see;
their scents come alive as a blind man's mind sings
with colours as secretive as the idea that he sees.
I go along a narrow path (the familiar twisting and looping through the unknown),
I meet the wind in a light gust with a bouquet of jasmine in a winged hand - a student flitting by,
and then the burning earthy scent of leather and smoke some savage memory of long ago awakening in me -
and more little breezes trot by
and from the dark unknown foliage drifts the scents of meadows of blossom
and deep in the folds smelling of cold and leather the steady beating of a gentle heart
which stays with me
as I walk along my garden path.
A Note from the Author:
"This poem was written on the 1st of August last year. From a blog entry written that day, the following quote relates to its origin: "I was inspired to write a most interesting poem today treating the topic of scents. I said to a lecturer of mine that I was aware of the presence of another lecturer because my olfactory organs had detected him. This prompted a conversation on the topic of scents which, by the way, lacks a vocabulary, and later a poem which endeavours to make use of scents to describe things." [The "lecturer of mine" mentioned, is Miss Dey who has kindly made known to me her approval of this poem.]
It is true that this poem does not relate directly to the current situation in South Africa. For me, though, there is a link. I try to show in the poem how I appreciate people and appreciating one another has now become something we are quite aware of or should be."
- Izak R. Crafford