Your True Gardener

My lotus flower, adrift on the water bed, Your petals top the pond, Lilies, Irises, Hyacinths. The sun reminisces, And the moon grieves, For in the dark of night, It hides your leaves. I weed your sodden garden, Cattail, Waterthymes, Reeds. My lotus you're safe, I know your needs. The scabs from the tear, Haunts your fragile stem, Faint, pink lines like those of your petals, Shine like a gem. My lotus I trace along those lines, And your hesitance remains, My lotus, I say, "I know not the hurricane, That caused your injury, Nor the pain of how it felt, But I know the misery, And the doubt." My lotus, I hold your leaves, "Your weeds grow back, But I will still stay, Your stem dries, And I will water you everyday," My lotus, I caress your greenery, "Your flowers have bloomed, In the harshest of weather, But now you know sunlight, And I'll make sure it's forever."