My 12 year old daughter wrote this poem after visiting the Japanese tea garden in San Francisco.

Japanese Tea Garden

In the heart of the tea garden,

A diminutive waterfall twists amidst

The gaps of stalwart boulders

Small, but determined.

Though blocked by solid stones, still it finds a way

To trickle down the mountain edge:

The sound of the wind rushing through blossoms.

Tiny yellow leaves glide upon the surface of a clear pond,

Perfectly at peace.

A branch dips, and I swivel, facing

Minute trees.

Their gnarled branches twisting intricately

Against one another,

Each branch reigning over its own dome of immaculate leaves.

Serene in this harmonious sanctuary,

The air crisp after a cleansing shower.

The sun warms the air, and the

Tranquil pond shimmers softly with little sparkles,

Dancing on its surface.

The water serenely swirls around my fingers

Soft as satin.

The sun hits all of the gentle pond at once,

Dazzling the air with a variety of

Alluring yellows, pinks, and reds

Prancing around me.

To the side, an ancient tree

Extends its gnarled fingers

Reaching out to me.

Scarlet goldfish paddle lazily

Through the water,

Circling around

Purple irises drifting upon the water,

Attached to their own miniature island of earth.

And in the midst of a barren winter,

Life awakens all around me,

A precious flower in the desert.

Timeless.