Live in a garden and you'd think every thing about life is;
             the sweet soft chatter of wild, brightly coloured birds,
          the cracked yet appealing noise of a horny toad,
          the fragrance of naturally perfumed colorful flowers,
          the tranquility of a merrily dancing river.
Live in a garden and you would think life is all green, pains are foreign and tears are only rains watering plants and WEEDS alike.

But...

Be a garden and you would see;
          that even butterflies bear the scorch of the sun to reach the scent of a flower,
          that the cracked noise of a toad only appeals because it comes at the right time,
          that roses glow so brightly because they have learnt their nature, to not compare themselves with tall oppressive palms,
          that lilies toil and hustle, the roots labour constantly not minding that the glowy glory belongs to the petals,
          that weeds wage wars against flowers and the rain helps not either.
...that flowers die, they wither,
...that even in gardens, only the unrelenting ones survive.