One’s Posthumous Rose
by Odin Roark

Some may ask…

From where came your seed?
From where did you grow?
Were rivulets of love offered you?
Did moisture nurture your heart?

When cut…

Did blade gently remove you?
Did grace affect your separation?

Many tears were shed with your departure,
as your sibling, not yet matured, lamented with closed-petal longing,
remembering your disappearing fragrance
adding further sadness to the day.

Oh, such moments rare…

From behind petals barely parted,
petals longing to join you,
remained but sensuous pain of your removal.

Few will know, but…

We were nurtured together,
even though of different color,
different breeding,
different expectations,
sharing earth’s generosity side by side.

Now…

Your circumstances will be limited,
save nature's gift of survival.
Water will rise into your loins,
yet time will wither your blooming.

Persevere you will indoors,
as I keep faith that clouds will not shorten your stay,
that sunlight will exist,
that human smiles,
deep breaths,
gentle touches,
will give you solace.

Remember…

Though our shared experience was short,
we cultivated hope,
knowing there might be a chance that
reunion would be felt amid sheets of a book,
offering something beautiful,
memorable,
sustainable,
just as awakening to life's morning luminance
made possible the days you lowered your head,
allowing sun's light to breach the shadow
and give me warmth.

Do you recall those mornings?

As I talk to the breezes now,
your bouquet is long gone.

I dearly miss you.

With some providence,
we will once again
be part of each other
if only from a posthumous distance,
our petals pressed between pages of love,
where poets of the heart gentrify old memories
and await those yet to come.