Solitude

From the top of the stairs
She closed her eyes without a care
Feeling a force beguiled with heavenly air
It sewed feathered wings illuminating her halo’s flair

No longer was she a child at five
As she was buzzing with bees that left their hives Collecting sweet nectar from blooms of sweet chives
To pollinate fields of flowers did they all freely dive

Without warning, the sun kissed summer
Turned into a haunting fog, hovering over wooden lumber
Sadly the bees departed, stinging like sticks of an angry drummer
The sweet honey scented wings began to shrink with a sadden slumber

Struggling to open her eyes
Struggling to scream out cries
Struggling to land from a dream of lies
Struggling to say good-bye

What seemed like a thousand years
Visions of nature’s beauty dissipated into frightening fears
Finally did she land safely at the bottom of the stairs
Her flight through time, she vowed never to share

Then came a period in time
Her spirit was broken by a blood stained crime
Unable to remember the details, her zest for life lost its shine
Stricken with rocky mountains of emotions, she was too numb to try to climb

She retreated to a quiet nest of solitude
Loneliness and emptiness cradled her with such magnitude
To those that didn’t understand, labeled her with an attitude
 And called her weak and damn it, how rude

Until later, embedded with memories of bees
Instinctively and passionately she started planting countless roots of trees
Not knowing why, until her garden was laid alongside

A stairway for little travelers like Katydids to reside
Subtle signs, some may call coincidence, she at first called ironic
 From the Universe recited quotes laced in waves of sonic
Tied with a red string connected to Nature’s harmonic

Her ears keenly tuned in, low and behold, she heard notes of symphonic
As each day continued, the Universe and Nature
Delivered sweet quotes in a sheet of music overtures
With amusing hints of wicked humor
Told her to dig thousands of graves and bury all the rumors

Solemnly, sitting in the coldest of nights
Nature’s poems warms her with such delight
Knotted strings loosening just enough to wage a fight
Backed by the Universe and all of his might
Armed with words of power
Shall she scream a story, not only to empower
But truth will pour from her endless tears in a hurricane of showers In the end, her garden of roots will bloom the most beautiful flowers