Hello little flower,
Welcome to the world.
Spring is wide and full of wonders.
You are born of something wilder than it,
That shoots up through new stems
And pulses in the bud.
You will slake your thirst on rain
And curl your toes in soil,
You’ll survive the bluster of summer storms in the company of many,
And push clouds back by iridescent proclamation.
You’ll lose some petals, and maybe even come away bent,
But you’ll still spread your fragrance and be visited by bees
In the long languid tracks of the day.
In the brief nights you’ll close your eyelids tight against the cool,
To wake again at dawn and be beautiful.
When autumn comes
And nips at your heels,
Muster your courage.
The days will shorten fast.
Knowing your end,
The bending down to earth
And the partaking in the fall,
You will curl your petals in close one last time,
And burst in brutal release.
Frigid dawn will see you hang, brown and withered on the stem.
White winter will cover you
In a snowy grave.
And you will be forgotten
Under drifts and pillows,
Solitude and iron earth.
Winter will think it has won
And mock at your death.
Wait until spring, little flower.
All will be new.
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die…”
Ecclesiastes 3:1, 2
(Liturgical poetry during Lent is inspired by the Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. Photo by Linnea Wheeler)