The Petaled Path Pink blossoms scatter as the wind tosses them at my feet. More blossoms, orange blossoms, gold blossoms, many-colored blossoms. The petaled road points to one direction Home. Home, where my father waits, standing proud as his princess returns The lady at his side is no mother of mine yet, his torch for her burns Bright, like my mother was, wisened gray hair and open eyes Bright like the sun streaming through the canopy Through the leaves and the moss, all of which was my Home. The chirps of birds singing a merry tune, and the croaks of frogs, and the hums of grasshoppers. How dark the forest is in comparison to this open space, But everything is dull in comparison to her. The wild light in her eyes as she leaps over rocks and puddles, challenging a deer to a race The warm touch of her hand like sunlight, Caressing my face, wrapping her arms around me as I breathe in her scent Of rain, water, and sweat, Of moss and blood Of ambrosia and longing Never again will she lay her cheek atop my shoulder. Never will she ask me to stay, to abandon my promises My fake mother and my father But she is gone, because I have a promise to my people And she knows promises are just words Nothing more Never more. Place of Petals I sit in our fort Fortified with sticks and stones But nothing hurts more than you leaving. This place is still our fort, though you are gone Even though we have grown and there is only room for one. I sit here to avoid the sounds The chatter and gossip of birds The babbling bubbles of streams The sound of only wind when I listen for you. I am protected in this fort By the layers of cloth The layers of hugs The layers of love we have instilled here. I am safe in our fort. Though you are not here now, you will one day return Because you swore You vowed You promised. And you always keep your promises, no matter what Good or bad, you taught me what happens to those who don’t keep their promises And ever the diligent student I listened.