White Gardenia
(For Marjorie Evasco)
Elvie Razon Gonzales
She plants it along with white stargazers and orange jasmine,
where it is sure to receive
the full light of the morning sun.
Its leaves unfurl leisurely
like a baby’s delicate fist.
The lips of its buds part slightly
and the breath of heaven suffuses the air.
By high noon, her garden grows empty.
Leaves shrivel and return to the brown cracked soil.
Still she carries the sweet scent with her,
hidden in the pocket of memory
as she weaves her dreams
and stitches words
into the fabric of her being.
When light begins to be kinder
and dew drops slowly form,
she returns to her place among the flowers.
There she lifts her pen, lingers in her sacred space
where white gardenias blossom even more
fully into the night.