Yasmin Cheryl Kök

what if

I look for you in the garden,

will you be there,

will we meet again, be compatible?

This place is colorful and tangible seems wild but instead, strange,

a garden is designed and controlled, stylized, and forced,

we tend to cultivate land,

decide what is yours

and what is mine, what is good or what not.

we seperate divide things,

the land with borderlines, hard lines seen from above,

we see what sprouts, we don't see directly what lies beneath and takes place,

we see the effects if not well cared for. These wild flowers

have mutated into a shape I don't know, they appear beautiful but are they?

rhizome tends to take shape from non hierarchy free choice and best option because it can, not from need. But we do need earth, so seek your state of heaven not beyond, in a far far galaxy, instead, see you in our garden,

'Heaven is inbetween us, this is all I know'

I dig, I bury, I bury, I plant, my seeds our seeds and again. Remove, replace, harvest again,

layer upon layer, a fresh layer of earth, I water I water and the sun, the sun, If I don't nourish, it will die.

I dream of this garden, where we often meet,

I take a walk in the garden, I take a rest

we will dance again.

I died and was reborn in the garden.