It Does Not Matter. Poem by RIC BASTASA

you made
a beautiful garden.

busy people pass by.
the sick focus on their disease.
the children just play as usual.
no one notices how beautiful
your garden is.

it is only you who likes it
who loves it.

you ask: what is the use of this
beautiful garden?

you ponder.
you have the answers.
and you like it.
you love it.

it is enough.
you sit under a tree.
you watch it from the window of your house.
and you keep that answer to yourself.
and death does not matter.