The Garden

Springtime in the Shire
Once I longed to see it,
Cast away on a burning hill.
Now it passes me by,
All seasons pass me by,
I do not hear the birds sing.

In the dusk a furtive thrush
Snatches a worm.
Killer and prey
So close to home.
The summer rose is barbed
Like arrows of Lórien

Sam plans a border.
Annuals, perennials
You fancy a splash of
Red, Mr Frodo? Red
Like blood on the earth
That sounds fine, Sam.

Plant no perennials
For a summer I may never see
Stoop to your task with joy
And grieve not for me.
When shoots stir the snow
There will I be.

Hunted once, I
Will be forever hunted.
The garden fades
Into starlight, Sam calls
But I cannot answer, lost
In a secret winter of my own.

- Varda