by Kendra Jeong-Espinosa
She never saw the marigolds, the blooms that grew today,
Releasing airy flecks of gold that rose into the grey;
Their petals in the sunlight burned
and then, as ash, to earth returned
As if to leave a parting word
Before they blew away.
She would have loved the marigolds, although she lost the chance
To run among them, daring, bold; lie tossed among the plants.
And since she fell by iron will
---a virtue to admire, still---
Her startling absence sends a chill
Across the vast expanse.
Enlighten me, oh marigolds, about this scene you've shown:
The queen is gone, oh marigolds, so who will claim the throne?
Her savior came, but came too late---
sweet irony and bitter fate,
And though the wailers begged to wait,
She drifted off alone.
I sauntered through those marigolds, beyond their haunting glow
They taunted me, those marigolds, for what went on below?
A root held fast to how we were---
A path to bring me back to her?
Or is our pact a debt incurred
That I forever owe?
And if she saw those marigolds, our views may not agree:
Through darkened lens, they're terrible, as omens ought to be.
But daybreak will advance and then
Inhale the pallor cast again
And feed the field of marigolds---
That she will never see.
END OF BOOK II
Thank you all for reading! Whether you’re commenting, lurking, or doing the blogger quid pro quo thing, know that I appreciate each and every one of you for going through this journey with me. Bless you, bless you all.
Marigolds/Cempasúchil