Appreciation for the Flowers

The flowers that you knocked at my door,
into my life
have dried.
Some are bound and hung as what now seems to be an homage to the memories we once were making;
some are dead and buried in the bottom of a refuse pile.

I hope they make fertile soil
to grow more flowers.

I feel that our moments were much like these flowers
vibrant and alive
followed by dry periods
of distance
and death.

I had wanted
this cycle to continue
bridging gaps
making us stronger,
closer.

But when winter brought you back
and whispered promises of spring soon
I broke
not believing,
not seeing the promise.
Blind to all of your seeds and flowers,
only seeing dead gardens
I spoke of only endings.

You, Gentile Giant 
always planting seeds
always providing,
I tried to tend
to breathe life back into
what seemed like our dieing garden.



I went out yesterday to the garden
of all the lost flowers.
And in the midst of all the ruin
I saw green sparkling sprouting.

It whispered nothing but Love
and Appreciation,

Gentile Giant.

Lo siento,
Papillon.