midnight in the garden of peace

You approach your mother to help you:
Only she knows each part of you
But she can't lend you an idea either
And she can't even lay you on a soft crib.
midnight in the garden of peace
You are approaching a sister or a brother,
But each one is flooded with
Deep, separate weights
And each of them is immersed in endless thoughts.
You approach the friend who swore to you
Faith until your sad end,
But you see, he had already chosen
His friends through his modest begging.
You approach your shadow in silence
And you want to tell how helpless you are,
And filled with humiliation and pain
But it disappeared too. The shadow also served you very little.
You also approach the cushion between the hornbeams,
Being a wanderer, many years and every day,
To ask for advice, or to secretly confess
Your story, but the pillow didn't hear you either.
And then, disappointed, the thought comes to you
That it's all over, there is no solution you can find
But a light illuminates your face,
The thought cast by the Creator and his ray.
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