We stand observing, in the heart of the garden.
Shadows prevail. The haste of time has slowed down.
The plants are interwoven into a green blur.
The trees keep watch over the patience and the silence of their roots.
The green current is caught in the hedge.
A moment later, light appears and shines on the garden’s specter; the clamor of light disrupts the unity of the green.
A repetitious whisper is heard, telling the wind: “the time for liberation has come”