Somewhere in the Afterglow of Ever After

Sister seeds planted in black-winged darkness
the air was scented with dark purple despair
and ashes of grief fell from the air

there lambs cried in crimson bleats, aware,
of things in the murk,
that slithered and lurked--

but when planets aligned,
when stars shone just so,
then shadows shifted in slant-light,
letting them go.

They gathered cloaks of butterflies
and listened for the crows,
for the crows always know
when it’s time to wake and when to go.

Now red and gold, coruscating
poppies and daffodils, in dappled meadows,
the sisters grow, at peace under a sky
of cantaloupe glow.