Death's Garden

What grows from death?

Death’s Garden blooms in sorrow
Wasted dreams and lost tomorrows

Blasted hopes and visions narrowed
Pierce the heart like swiftest arrow.

Pain erodes those left behind
Momently barren, unrefined
Who cannot face the plan sublime,
The reaping season, harvest time.

Joy yet springs from blackest roads
For those who leave this earth-abode
Recalled in seedlings now long-sowed
They leave our  hands to tend the rows.

Hearts garner hope in knowing
Some new stalk is ever growing

Whilst old fruit withers on the vine
A novel world its seeds define.