Immortalized

In an effort to immortalize you, I gilded ocean size frames in gold leaf and painted your portrait with peacock feathers dipped in oils. I spelled out your name in bumble bee wings still quite attached to tame bumble bees hovering in obedience and formation in the sky I built a piano from felled red wood trees and carved your likeness on each key which I then filled up with ebony and abalone polish I traveled to Old Russia to the Crimean forest and pulled every wildflower up by it's roots and replanted them just for you, on the cliffs, overlooking the Black Sea. I tamed a black leopard and rode on her back 'round the world, with a banner, a list of your accomplishments flowing in silk for miles behind me, past onlookers reading your life. I sang gypsy music, as a siren on the wind while I wept and flooded each street with the depth of one tenth of the emotion you harnessed and kept at bay in your infinite quiet. I started with one person, your granddaughter, with your blue eyes her sitting on my lap, looking at me with a maturity past 3 years of age, and imprinted every memory of you in the air, for her to grab. You are not immortalized in portraits, or wings, or notes. You are not immortalized in flowers, or banners or sirens. You are immortalized, forever remaining, in the humble prayers of this innocent child.