Eternity

 When daylight strikes the land, by rearranging
 Just water, air and soil it makes a flower.
 Each detail’s perfect, yet it’s ever changing
 Disorder is restrained by solar power.
 A wilderness; a concept outside time.
 In constant flux, yet something stays the same.
 So maybe without reason, without rhyme 
 I’m part of some grand project I can’t name.
 We make a garden - wilderness that’s guided -
 To suit a project that we have in mind.
 We make it follow lines that we decided
 Control is at the core of human kind.
 For if I keep my garden in control
 I’ve somewhere to accommodate my soul.