Beneath Moroccan skies, the earth begins to sing,
And touching it with care, I shed my suffering.

The roses whisper prayers as daylight gently glows,
While fig trees cast their shade in silent, sacred rows.

The palm tree sways above, a witness from the past,
My soul ascends through roots, in peace and soil cast.

Sweet mint beside the well perfumes the quiet air,
And water softly speaks of life, of love, of care.

Each seed I place with hope recalls an old refrain,
A memory reblooms in every drop of rain.

The earth, so rich and kind, awakens all that sleeps,
And time becomes a friend that soothes, that humbly weeps.

The jasmine greets my step with scent and velvet tone,
As I walk through the light, no longer quite alone.

Each gesture of my hand becomes a silent prayer,
To tend, to love, to heal the world and all that’s there.

No words are truly needed — the flowers say it all,
They hold the truth of time, both mighty and so small.

The garden is a book the sacred wind unfolds,
Where every soul can read the peace that silence holds.

And I, a simple man with dreams I gently tend,
Have planted in my soul a garden with no end.

Set under the Moroccan skies, the narrator finds peace and emotional renewal through touching the earth, planting seeds, and listening to the silent language of flowers, trees, and water. Each natural element — roses, fig trees, palm trees, mint, and jasmine — carries symbolic meaning, offering comfort, memory, and connection to the divine.

The garden becomes a sacred space, a living book of peace and timeless wisdom. In caring for the soil, the narrator also nurtures his soul, expressing love and faith without words. Ultimately, the poem portrays the garden as an eternal inner sanctuary, where silence speaks louder than speech and every act of tending is an act of healing and hope.