There is a garden
growing between tangled sentiments
where statues stand stoic
awaiting the medusa that has
frozen their slithering
snake-headed love
These effigies are worn reminders
where damaged conflict
scarred eroded polished marble
of heart won beliefs
that autumn would not
swallow them up
that memories would not
chill them in icy heart-break
that truth would win
where dishonesty failed
Our love is not “like poplars”
for we are lulled by harmony
death is a sour note
these strings cannot play
for we are unending and cannot be
a melody in malady
shivering in stinging rain
we do not wilt
we do not whither
we do not fade
only the sun wanes in frosty failure
as leaves turn brown in sorrow
and night grieves
in long sobbing moans
and cold tears
there is warmth in our renewal
hope to be reborn
as flames fuel the fire
of our resurrection,
flowers bloom
in our garden of rebirth…
