My mom planted marigolds 

after spring’s final defrost

My mom planted marigolds 

     gently placing them into beds

     trusting them to be self sufficient 

     dirt, sun, water their only requirements

     no demanding pampered hothouse flower here

My mom planted marigolds

     unlike the prideful orchid

     demanding its individuality

     marigolds are content to shine

     in the bosom of their family, quietly

My mom planted marigolds

     sunset red, yellow and orange hues

     radiating smiles out to the world

     persevering through drought or deluge

     surviving whatever the season unfurled

My mom planted marigolds 

     each so simple at initial glance 

     but taking time to study their parts

    their spiraling, furled layers, hinting at

    unspoken depth and hidden heart

My mom planted marigolds

     as they reached toward the sky

     their rooted deep into the ground

     sending refreshment into the soil

     renewing the earth to which they were bound

My mom planted marigolds

     after spring’s final defrost

My mom planted marigolds

     that bloomed till autumn’s frost. 

…………………..

I discern as this poem unfolds

My mom’s flowers mirrored her soul

In my life, now I know

My mom has been my marigold