In The Gardens

i.m. Rosemary Dobson 1920-2012                                                 

In limitless gardens we plant

whatever we like; transient

as our flowers’ exotic smells

and colours, we seek attention

just as much as anyone else.

Everything is under control,

or so we think, though quickly gone.

We continue like this until

we happen upon a great stone

thrust up from the heart of the earth.

Its presence, far too powerful,

draws us into its orbit. Shocked,

we find we compare our worth

with the shape of a mighty rock.

Even the trees and distant hills

take their bearings from it, aligned

with a power that endures

when everything withers and fades.

We will resume our work, of course,

and eventually be replaced,

always mindful of the rewards

that cruel oblivion designed,

which the monolith ignores.