There a flower grows
The yellow heat pours down
From a blue sky, soft rain patters staccato against leaves
The soft loam, smelling clean. Fresh earth and the crisp green of new growth
Fronds reaching out to the blue. Sun pounding down they drink their fill
Dew soaked grass, orange gold sunset and the failing light
The first blush of the darkness found amidst deepening shadows
Soft hushed, sounds quiet, the garden cools in the night air
The stars shine. While across the sky meteors fall like tears
The triumphant moon, full and ripe, arcs ascendant in a loving sky

This is the poem I wrote as my last relationship was ending. I wrote a each line in remembrance, over a period of 20 days, as I do not walk away. But It was over. Eventually, when other romance looms heavy, even I must shutter the past. As I did today. Not everything beautiful lasts forever. But sometimes that ending marks the beginning of something better.