Garden.

By Daisy Torres

You entered our world like a blooming gold flower.

Why do petals wither and die?

You entered our world like an autumn leaf, twirling.

Why do leaves crash and burn?

Time is a tricky thing, it takes and it grows.

Time is a sad thing, when the one you love goes.

Snowflakes melt when their time is up. 

But from Winter comes Spring, and that’s true for all things. 

Our love for you, we’ll store up.

We’ll water the earth with our tears, in hopes that a flower will appear.

Someday I know our garden will grow, full of laughter, not sorrow.

For now it pains us to watch you go, but we’ll meet again some ‘morrow.

Though your time with us wasn’t short, perhaps that makes it all the worse.

To love a lovely thing, and to watch it thirst.

You won’t see us cry, and you knew you were loved.

But if actions speak louder than words, can you hear me from where you transferred?

And if speech is so powerful, then where was my power in words?

We’ll meet again, some lovely blue ‘morrow. 

The skies will be clear, our gardens, all wonder.

But until that day comes, these words I’ve written in sorrow.

Until that day comes, I know the One who loves me dear. 

Who holds me close in times of fear.

I know the One who wipes my tears. 

He speaks of love when I can’t hear.

Gently, a winter wind blows. 

Following grows a red and green rose. 

I’m watching this garden as the year draws to a close.

Someday we’ll sing songs rich with promise.

But for now, I’m still waiting.

Still, and morose.