Garden of the One Thousand
There are one thousand voices in the little waterfall
and within it one thousand children’s voices echo as they call.
Quicksilver runs fast in the waterfall--along with it liquid gold;
and there is a life-giving joy in the water that brings a comfort to one’s very soul.
There is sunlight streaming in the waterfall; much like one thousand glistening gems.
There are twigs and leaves in the waterfall, adorning one thousand twinkling hems
of children’s garments who play in the waterfall, as they jump and they dive in and sing.
Their hearts beat out wildly in the waterfall--and get me to wondering.
Above, there are one thousand windswept glories, across an ageless summer sky--
and one thousand pulsating stars out at night that give a bling on their course as they pass on by.
And up above it all there is a hollow, with one thousand budding streams
that join together to make a waterfall, impractical as it may seem.
At the top--there is a tree with one thousand roots that travel down.
They twist and with every turn that they make, they make this, much hallowed ground.
And the dreams of most all are stored up there, and now and again, down they fall--
right from the heavenly altar of the tree through the little waterfall.