The old garden is gone
It has become a secret garden of memory

I still hear the bird song there
sometimes I am sure the eagle
is flying to bring me home there

I fly between the kauri pine branches
and watch the flocks of lorikeets

But I waken to a different place
a garden full of orchids
purple, pink and yellow

Reflections of sunrise and sunset
in pool water surrounded by sunbirds
and beheaded palms
that hint at what happened
everywhere in this place

The place where Yasi came
and did a horrible tantruming dance
through the gardens

We grow more patient
and cheerful as the birds
return to their roosts

A tree broken but still with a touch
of green and flower
is a tree of great power.

(c) June Perkins, all rights reserved