Share via Share via... Twitter Facebook Pinterest WhatsAppRecent ChangesSend via e-MailPrintPermalink × Desert Garden In the trackless desert of my Soul, there blooms a golden blood red rose in a hidden garden. A garden where play terrible red and green lions under a golden sun being chased by a silvery moon. Where eagles fly and wheel in an azure sky, chained to crawling toads, and serpents slowly wind around the trees. In a small rocky grotto, the winged dragon unceasingly chases it tail as if in a boiling, roiling cauldron. Ravens sit watching in the flowering trees as a wolf and dog cavort and fight in a flourishing field. For all the fantastical beasts, it’s the rose blooming in the shelter of the heart of the garden that matters. A rose ever unfolding, forever blooming sweetly smelling secluded and nurtured on the elixir in my heart. by Samuel Scarborough Index This is an authorized mirror of J S Kupperman's Journal of the Western Mystery Tradition. Last modified: 2021/10/22 17:27by John Bell