Roses For Molly

She rushes past the gates of the garden Barefoot and barely breathing Anticipation and wonder filling her mind Leaving no trace of doubt or misgiving As she enters the garden her feet slow Giving her breath a chance To catch up with her heart The ground beneath her feet is soft As the sun begins to peek Through the heavy grey clouds Something beckons her to look over her shoulder Back to the gates she passed through And there, leaning slightly on the wrought iron, Is a single white rose just beginning to bloom She slowly walks over to the rose And bends down to breathe in peace To her surprise it smells of cinnamon And her grandmother’s perfume She looks to the other side of the path and sees another white rose In full bloom She turns and looks down the freshly dug path And sees a large tree at the top of a small hill From where she stands it looks as if it might be pink She curiously begins to walk down the path to get a better look On her way she looks down and sees the path Lined with tiny yellow roses There is one for every cousin Niece and nephew Aunt and uncle But there are more in bloom as the path begins to widen She gets closer and the path splits Forming a large circle around the pink tree There is a bench near the tree A small bench made of stone She looks beyond the path on either side And notices large rose bushes Reaching towards the sky Peach and orange roses in full bloom Covering the bushes and humming softly A bush for each brother and sister She gets closer to the tree The sun throws light upon the branches And she sees that it is not pink But white roses, hundreds of them She notices two stems Wrapped around the base of the tree Making their own paths Peeking over the bench at the end of each stem A blue rose for dad A large lilac rose for mom She sits on the stone bench Warmed by the sun Looks out at the garden And begins to realize it belongs to her Some of the petals begin to fall from the tree As a warm breeze makes its way Through the white roses Tears begin to make their way down her cheeks Spilling onto the stone bench As grief and sorrow begin to merge with joy and love She stands Takes one last look around And breathes in the sense of love lost , love found And love yet to be She walks slowly down the path Treading lightly on petals As they are caught by the breeze And displayed across the path She scoops up a handful, wanting to remember But soon drops them again, realizing she’ll never forget As she approaches the open gate She notices a single red rose Intertwined in the iron door A single key dangling from a chain on the stem She frees the rose, and gently removes the chain with the key She closes the gate and fits the key into the lock As she turns the key she reaches out and gently touches one of the white roses She clasps the chain with the key around her neck Breathes in the scent of her red rose, looks up toward the sky and walks on Knowing she can always return