Will You Bloom Again?

This is a piece I originally wrote for the Pulitzer Poetry Contest, originally titled “Flowers Do Not Heal”. Rereading this, I decided that flowers DO heal, and they bloom again. So, I went for a more realistic title, bringing more optimism (if you can say that) into this piece. Enjoy <3

The sun gazes down on us

Its piercing warmth radiating from the sky

A rare sight

Which brings me to the clouds

Scarce but still visible

Scattering the sky in white patches

An acacia tree

Towering above the forever green land

Scattering flowers

At your sun kissed feet

Its twisted trunk

swaying in the gusts of wind

Which brings me back

To your billowy braided hair

They called you “diminutive brunette”

You despised the name at first

And grew to cherish it

You may have been small

But your warmth was vast

Which brings me back to the sun

Glowing in the azure sky

A mirrored image of your smile

A spectacular sight

Bright and beaming

Sending warmth

Wherever you set your path

You flutter your delicate eyelashes

You were a butterfly

Striking and beautiful

As you danced like

The night would last for an eternity

But you were not delicate

You were powerful

Which brings me back to your eyes

A rich, chocolatey brown

A confounding gold in the sunlight

Almost as if they had been dipped in honey

A replica of the bark on the tree

Twisting, swirling features

Almost like a maze

Once you are inside

There is no way out

An intricate phenomena

Just like you

You were a gift to us

You made this world gleam

And the flowers

The flowers

The flowers

The patterned golden skirt

Long and flowy

The woven white lilies

Sway as you dance

They were nearly as joyful

Nearly as beautiful as you

You wore it every day

And on a day like this

I saw Him

He eyed you hungrily

The spark in His eyes only grew

And before I could warn you

It was too late

You were young

He was not

He didn’t give in to your pleas

He didn’t give in to your extraordinary brown eyes

As they filled with salty tears

Begging Him to let you go

And here I am

One year after this tragedy

It should be peaceful

But does peace really change anything?

Women never have peace

Even in peaceful times

I want you to be joyful again

But I have never seen your smile break

Your beauty is still a gift to this empty world

But He has made you let yourself go

Your hair is barely brushed

Your honey-dipped eyes are sullen and lifeless

And the old you is gone

I want you to remember the flowers

But your skirt is displayed in a museum

For the public to see

Anyone

Anyone

Can learn from your story

It is displayed

In a commemoration to this returning calamity

He took advantage of your beauty

And now I am left to pray for you

I want you to remember the sun

But summer is now a joyless winter

The beautiful landscape is now a mockery

Of what used to be

I want you to remember the youth

But that is yet another thing He stole from you

It was gone

Like a song