Garden of Life

In a garden, where not fruits, but meanings ripen slow,
They whisper to the trees; through rustling branches flow.
The wind, a storyteller, in robes of moonlight, gleams
Upon the river's surface, and silently just dreams.

The River of Time - a boundless, endless stream;
The trace of vanished years - to Eternity they deem.
The Bird of Memory, with hopes and dreams, it takes its flight,
Always soaring onward - into endless, fading light.

Oh, heart, are you a compass, or a lighthouse's gleam?
Do you lean to whispered grasses, or the linden's quiet dream?
Or to the shattering thunder, where the Truth tears skies apart?
Where “yes” and “no” are two banks of one deep river's heart.

The lamp of twilight casts its glow on earthly ground;
A lilac calm upon the windows - no harsh sound.
The stars, like tiny needles, pierce the velvet sky,
And hidden thoughts and feelings behind each one now lie.

Between “yesterday” and “today” - a path of unknown grace:
One step— an abyss; the next - a soaring, boundless space.
We are both watchers and the players, till our final breath;
Our life's ship sails through ages - beyond the reach of death.

Oh, heart, are you a compass, or a lighthouse's gleam?
Do you lean to whispered grasses, or the linden's quiet dream?
Or to the shattering thunder, where the Truth tears skies apart?
Where “yes” and “no” are two banks of one deep river's heart.

In the garden where not fruits, but meanings ripen slow…
The very start of life, where all our journeys flow.

-------
You can listen to the song via the link:

https://disk.yandex.ru/d/Vl0fSHhTYNOjTw