Lower your voice in the garden.
Flowers have songs for the wise.
Sometimes you can hear them sing
To serenade the skies.
Lower your voice here, and listen.
This awareness will not hurt.
Here, the air is clean and you
Skip barefoot on the dirt.
One day, you’ll wish you had listened
When the Meadow tried to speak.
Life continues through the pause.
It doesn’t make you weak.
Lower your voice in the garden:
There’s more to life than the pain.
Hold your breath and take a step
And wait for it to rain.