Magic beans lie atop the fallow ground
rooted by tears those many years ago.
His death, unexpected
after one hundred glorious days.
She’d waited patiently,
gossamer hair now grey.
And when the monsoon rains did come
they matched her grief in magnitude.
became fast running seas.
Earth drenched in new hope,
the magic began to grow.
Tendrils became vines
became trees became redwoods,
and blushed at her ascent.
Last steps on lightning’s jagged stairs.
His fingertips reached down for hers,
thunderous clouds turned calm.
And a new blaze was born that night,
third star to the north of Sirius.
Photo Credit: Michele de Notaristefani