We are seeing the last of the tulips here. (This is a detail from a larger painting.)
There is a garden at the heart of things,
Our oldest memory guards it with her strong will.
Those who by love and work attain there
Bathe in her living waters, lift up their hearts and
Turn again to share the steep privations of the hill;
They walk in the market but their feet are still.
from The Promised Garden, by Theo Dorgan