the chemist was an antique gentleman

skilled in his craft as sages before him imparted their arcane knowledge like the thread of history binds the future to the past

an apothecary of the soul

he crushed some rare seeds with a mortar and pestle until they were as fine as dust

then fractioned them with a knife skilled as any croupier cuts a hand of cards and splays them out on green velvet

then he mixed them with liquids to create a pastel of colours some vibrant others subtle

some resembling wildflowers in the spring

they became a slurry of confusion like the hopes of man

then he dried them out in the Sun like a baker

dusted them with diamonds in quarters and donated them as salves for any

maladie cruelle

with no consideration for profit nor greed