... in love with a tender flower.
(that literally was her name).

To her, blooming was sufficient
and to me beguiling.

But rather than a perennial
it turns out she was an exotic orchid.

She needed particular material things
to open her petals, to feel love.

Things she needed were self-chosen
Order fulfillment my task (I had poor taste)

Over the years, the deficit got bigger
Others had more and life was short.

Kids and house were her competitors.
Love was about her and not us.

Eventually the books didn't balance
and so she wrote off my love.

I put too much hope in new growth
when she was already past her peak.

True she blooms for others with ease
but I think each flowering is forced.

As for me, I think flowers are not for me.
But something with a heart or deeper roots.

I was thrown away so easily
that I must think about why.

When did I stop growing
and accept so little?

The warning signs were there quite early
But I assumed it was seasonal.

For every forever flower
wilts a bit before coming back.

But waiting and hoping are not enough
I withdrew and watched.

I had hopes that as we grew through life
Love could make us sprout anew.

Maybe had I been more determined
rather than taking what was given.

Maybe some flowers can be pruned
and in turn change their partner.

I will learn how to do that
to be here and now.

And understand that love is not
lowering expectations

but love is a joyful partnership
that should grow over time.

A love that seems paused or static
has no Brownian motions or quantum flux.

So I will never wait for love to come back
But know love requires full participation.

So my new life starts now
and I hope learn anew.

I am in what used to be our family home
You are with your latest man.

My screams of hurt have faded
(but you never heard them anyway).

I hope you feel "appreciated" now
and he buys you the biggest ring.

I still hear the echoes from our 19 years
and wonder if you do too?

Jupiter looms above us.
Each swirling maelstrom continent-sized.
The colors extend far beyond the visible
The AI VR brings the beauty of infrared
and the serenity of ultraviolet to light.

The sleet of particles rain down
repelled by our field's flux.
Safe and snug inside our craft
the odd green glow embraces
our own private Aurora.

The AI shares our joy in chaos
the poetry that is the planet
inscribed in our largest gravity well.
Its data feed enthralls its brethren
As we share data with our faces.

Ah but I was born too early
to see this but early enough
to imagine.

I was reincarnated before I died,
As you can imagine a bit surprising!

I remember a lot of my old life,
it was a pretty full existence.

I thought for a while it had been ******
but now I see I stepped in a pit.

True I did not dig the pit nor spike the bottom
But I wasn't paying attention to the path.

Oddly enough my midwives for my new life
Were my children from the old.

Their pure notes of being and love
Echoed in the void I was in

And led me to safety and a new life
Wife is gone but paternal love remains.

The road is open as am I
And I will watch my step this time.

Perhaps old me deserves more words
But I think an outline is enough.