FOR HER FLOWERS

She is the greatest gardener,

Planting in her womb

Flowers of different colors,

Of varying size and scent.

And when they hold

Their roots on the ground,

She waters them with love,

Exposes them to warmth of the sun

That will radiate them,

And protects her lovely creatures

From the claws of violent weeds.

When the night comes,

She asks the moon for its light

To guide her flowers

To their own paradise

Where their colors won't fade

Under any sun.

But when her flowers start to wither,

How great is her hope

That her tears might wash away

What's dying in every petal,

What's drying in every leaf.

And though she can plant

Another flower in her,

She will never forget

The scent of those

Which already laid on the ground

And those which carried

Their own pots away from her,

Because she is the greatest gardener.

She is a mother.

She is a woman.

Reviews

[Indra's Child]

I love this, it was beautiful.
Made me cry a little.