Poetry

the garden of life

The world is dirt
Yet I’ve seen the greatest of flowers
Spring up from its soil
 
And she was the loveliest flower.
From the broken earth she bloomed
And grew into something so much more
Than the seed she started as
 
You wouldn’t have to pick her petals
To know if she loved you.
Her words were like nectar,
so sweet to the ear,
reminding you of how much she appreciated you.
 
I wish I could have always been there for her.
But she said that I was the sun in her life,
because even though she didn’t always see me,
she knew I was always there.
 
She’d always tell me
“Sunflowers still grow at night”
And boy, had she seen the night.
I never knew how she did it
 
She dug her roots,
stood her ground,
never let anyone steal her sunshine.
 
And when she grew old
We’d move her hospital bed for her
And she’d sit by the window
Still capturing every glimpse of sunlight she could.
 
But the good ones always go first,
because when you go to a garden,
you always pick the loveliest flower first.
And so did the heavens

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