There will be flowers in the end
after the towers topple down
casting stones where they may
among the petals that remain
probing for the winking sun
faces turned upward to find the orb
obscured by clouds man has made
rich with ash from distant flames

the past planters are in their graves
sharing space with probing roots
tendrils seeking nourishment
those late yarders now fertilizer
the end result of what’s transpired
means so little to budding plants
innocent unto themselves
bear still witness in the end

the bright colors testify
that hope continues past the end
even if there are no folks
to bear witness to spectrums shown
differences provoked the end
now the hues remind the dead
of the beauty most forgot
in the range of varied thought

the world is whole for a brief time
enough to bring forth budded spawn
the curtain has not fully dropped
even though the world is silent
they exist because the gardeners
foresaw how the world would fall
when normality does revert
the flowers will greet returning souls.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190106.