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.