I walked a different garden path I’ve little time to see,
Where flowers lift their faces and smile in the breeze,
In orange, brown and yellow, blue and red and white,
So many shades and colors reaching for the light,
From hillsides to the meadows for each visitor’s delight,
But drivers miss their pageant and race to beat the light.
It’s a rather simple secret where this hidden garden is.
Why should I have to tell you where this secret treasure’s hid?
A walk around the neighborhood may yield a hint or two:
In the many kinds of faces, in the things that people do.
In fields beyond the meadow, they smile in the breeze,
Nurtured by the dew of hope to grow above the weeds.
Each uniquely different is striving to succeed,
And bloom where they are planted in the garden of their dreams.
How to make our dreams come true, depends on me, depends on you.
To see the worth of others is a treasure – plus it’s true –
By cultivating interest a percent comes back to you.
To see God’s hidden garden in the meadow or the field,
Let others race to beat the light. Jump out and see what’s real.