This woman knew that in his mind
he would wander in the Garden
of Amaranth kicking up a drift
of fallen seeds which lay like
pink tears wept from his myopic eyes.
In the distance she stood waiting
for the moment when his need
was the greatest as he grappled
to make sense of all the years
blurred by time gone so fast.
Tight lipped she watched him fall
Into the pit of darkness
and as he limped towards the light
she carried the water to bathe
the weeping blisters on his feet.
And as nights gave birth to moons
and days cloaked his sun in grey
he did not see this woman
in his garden planting a grave
with swathes of white heartsease blooms.
When summer came and still the sun
Hid behind a blanket of gloom
This woman lay in his arms
And whispered my work is done
Now the rest begins with you.