Rows of Arbors

Rows of arbors, rows of stones,

Silent pathways trodden alone.

Memories laid to rest at last

Surrendered to the ground—the past.

These mortal wounds buried in earth

Laid in plots that give new birth.

 
The grief, sorrow, and pain let go

Cause Irises—full of hope—to grow.

Humble beginnings—the slow mend

The care of a patient gardener—to tend.

The leaves must fall, and memories pass

for new life to come from covered grass.

 
The silent growth, a journey through the dark

With scarce a light, lamp, or spark.

Yet, the night will come to an end

When the Sun returns—that old friend.

This voyage through the heart’s seas

Rising and crashing as the waves seize.