Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity. Kahlil Gibran

In her youth she had  many plants in her home.  Begonias, African violets, dieffenbachias, spider plants, cactus and ivies. Oh! how she loved them!  Those years trying to have children, she treated each one like her baby.  Each plant had different needs… watered once a week, some twice, some once a month. All had their special personality, some shied from the sun, others rose with the sun and her prayer plant that folded at night reminding her always to say her prayers before going to sleep.  Now she had her mother and this plant to remind her.

One year she adopted  a beautiful fern that she kept in her bedroom where it was cooler and visitors might not rub on it.   And then, she had babies which took up all her attention. Most of her plants left for foster homes.

Her family moved to a home in the country, where there was room to run and play and plant a huge vegetable garden.  She planted marigolds around the vegetables to protect them from unwanted visitors and petunias and begonias in the front flower bed.

That was long ago. She’s  moved since then; the children grew up and left. She and her cat look out at her humble herb garden and a mother-in-law tongue sits in the dining room. Now the plant serves her, wagging its tongue and purifies the air.

flowers blossom,
spreading their leaves 
 until the sun sets

© Tournesol’15

DversePoets – Haibun Monday