My favorite place

Posted on 11 de Março de 2014

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fig-tree-4Today after breakfast, ran my hand in a bag of books, notepad and pens and ran to my favorite place, a garden. But not just any garden, it is one of those made a century ago.

Surrounded by a white wall, and the access to it is a narrow black iron gate. The garden is not well cared, the lawn thin and sunken leaves visible lack of a gardener. However, even then it’s still gorgeous. The plants are mixed with weeds. Flowers I only saw two or three ones, blue and yellow.

There is a tall fig tree in the corner of the garden, with figs in abundance, many of which tasted sweet and delicious, ate mostly by birds. There are insects too, but they don’t bother us, following their lives in this world alone and abandoned.

There are at least four wooden benches scattered around the place, each with a capacity of five people, one of them, right at the door I use to sleep when I get tired of reading or writing… What a good nap! The benches show that in the past this forgotten garden was once well used.

There is a chapel in it, white walls, door and half wall are blue painted. Through the window dirty glasses, I saw some dusty sculpture and two kneeler before them, showing that it was a place of prayer in the past. What is in this garden that invites me to enter whenever I pass at its gate? It is a garden of God ….

Not the Catholic or Protestant God, it is a garden of the LORD, the LORD of all, even of those that don´t like him, believe it or not, the sky, the earth, the sea and the entire universe belongs to him. How is impossible to, a perfect God, so wonderful, so amazing to be here in this garden of structural chaos, and fills it with a marvellous peace?

It is the same thing to us? Or by some chance you think that your inner garden of encounter with God is perfect? No, we’re all a mess before this perfect God. Eden was he who built and cared for it, and so it was perfect. We have holes, rocks, pests, insects, dirty and empty benches made for the people and friends that we left outside of our lives. Our chapel is locked and dusty. Nonetheless, God is in it, and calls us together, to make it a better place.

Well, I’ll finish up here and get some sleep… it’s so good…

by Luis A R Branco

You can get a book with my poems from Amazon

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