Deliverer of Their Sorrow

This was inspired by Marie Anzalone's piece Tending the Garden of a Suicide Victim.

It is spring now, but her garden languishes,

blossoms once tended with care

left to drink nutrient-bare earth

alone.

 

Where is she,

mother of their nurture?

Why is she now

deliverer of their sorrow?

 

It is spring now and I dig in the soil,

plant worms and fertiliser

little gifts of nourishment to revive

the dying.

 

Where is she,

mother of their nurture?

Why is she now

deliverer of their sorrow?

 

It is spring now, and she lies abed,

still. She grieves you,

so deeply she cannot breathe

but for remembering.

 

She asks only why,

and leaves her garden to rot.

 

It is spring now, and I coax growth

that you denied yourself-

one day she will return

to life.

 

For now your memory remains

deliverer of her sorrow.

For now, I will be

mother of their nurture.

Author's Note

All polite/relevant reviews are welcome - especially constructive critique, but also including grammar and spelling corrections. And thank you for reading/leaving a review!

Reviews

[Marie Anzalone]

I am sorry I did not see this until now, Penulis. You wrote this beautifully, tending to your subject with great care, consideration, and empathy. I wonder if we can really make the dead come back to life by nurturing their visions in this world. Profoundly sad and wistful, yet with a wonderful nod to the eternal nature of cyclical life. Thank you.

[Penulis Kecil]

I'm glad you enjoyed it, Marie. :) Thank you for the review!

[...]

A lovely write here, So well expressed.

[....]

This is so soft and loving, I really enjoyed this write, it's quite emotional.

[Susanna F]

So poignant - simple yet full of subdued emotion. I love this verse:

It is spring now, and I coax growth
that you denied yourself-
one day she will return
to life.

I love that amidst all the sorrow, there is the spark of hope.