tulips in the garden

the tulips that grew in the garden
were a reminder of
when my father lived his life
with soil underneath his fingernails and
sweat dripped from his lashes
like tears
sometimes he did cry
over the majesty of his garden
the garden he had built
after the world
made him a ghost
the only way he was able to hold on
was by reaching deep into the Earth
scooping out its hot core
letting it warm his cracked
and dirty
palms

in his weakest moments, he made
offers
to the sky
begs for his Father’s judgement
begs for his light to shine on him
begs for one more day

in the mornings
i look out at the garden
think of all the
dreams
and all the
lives
that are planted there
faintly, my father’s heart
bends with the wind
faintly, my father’s heart
bats its wings
always in constant flight
yet rooted in the ground