My grandmother's garden

Everything else having been exhausted

All intellectualising done

Every experience had under this sun

Every passing pleasure and fantasy

And all mental trickery

Every convoluted philosophy

Eventually

I am left

With a longing for something simple and pure

The dawning realisation our ancestors knew more

And in all our cleverness we have become fools

Our arrogance In thinking we could reinvent it all

When all the children of this world need

Is what they have always needed

Stability, peace and humble joy

When All worldly things eventually come to seem hollow

I have my grandmothers recipes to follow

She could have told me everything I needed to know

Her garden is still the most beautiful place I can go

Everything else is excessive

Just beating about the bush