Page 88 - Leftovers V2
P. 88
My life was a formal garden, pleasant enough, but structured. This here, that there.
Paths clearly marked.
The perimeter defined. Beauty sans surprise.
You opened the gate and I walked out, reluctantly at first, then willingly, into a world exultant in disarray.
Here a parade of phlox, there fragrance of jasmine, over there dazzling peonies, and aromatic Russian sage. Wonder everywhere.
I am dizzy with delight but there are thorns among the wildflowers.
