~
love leaves
inevitable footprints,
indelible heart-prints.
sadly, they're not
always in the pathway;
often instead
the roses are trampled
by careless feet,
and gardenia petals
once fragrant and white,
become brown and crushed
from hands eager, but rough.
ignorant, clumsy words
spill the wax leaving
only a smoldering
wick to remain
of love's candle,
though bright
was its flame.
it is then this
garden of the heart
becomes more
a surgical ward,
than a cultivated
garden yard;
no more the
backyard retreat, but
feeling more like
a traffic-choked,
chaos-filled, city street.
forced to await
the quiet of night
for peace to return;
for the candle
extinguished
once more to ignite.
and for hands with
a gardener's touch,
gentle and skilled,
to restore beauty
once more;
along with
the fragrance
of returning hope.
~
post script.
*watching someone you care for
walk through a difficult
relationship break-up is painful.