The peaceful fluttering of wings.

They do not belong in a place so devoid of life.

A barren wasteland that has been deprived of water for so long.

Through the toil of love and sweat, these wings have found respite.

Walking among them, the silent beating stills my wandering.

I have wandered for what seems an eternity.

Warm feelings of wonder blanket my soul.

Orange and black wings, driven by need and purpose.

Drinking the sweet nectar that has been provided.

Watching them, I feel like a child.

My thirst quenched and desires placated.

I simply exist amidst the world of colors before me.

Orange, Black, Blue, Red, Yellow, and so much Green.

The world beyond this garden is dead, smoldering in the suns heat.

No water to break it’s sweet embrace.

But within the garden there is life.

The nurturing touch of a woman, careful and meticulous.

Cherishing the plants as no other could.

Caring as no other would.

Tending to the outcasts in a land that doesn’t want them.

This woman brings life to the desert.

And with it brings peace to my soul.