A crushed petal is always a crushed petal;
a flower draws up into her pure bud
and drops.
Where did the flower go?
There, look, beneath the dry stem
of every wafting wish and hope
gone dry ~
they’ve dropped down,
nurtured their own roots,
are waiting for the moment
to brave this wild wind again.
What gives them rise?
Sweet breath and warm encouragement
by whisper of voice who knows how
to bring beauty and relief
on brown, torn, landscapes.
Oh let me be that one flower
in ice,
one pulsing bud
braving fierceness,
on bloom giving
all its got
for as long as it can bear to
just to give one eye
a quick glimpse of possibilities.
I would give up all my beauty,
every seedy bit of potential
to be the awe and awesome moment
that even one might espy.
I am rooted by hand of he who knows
what scrolls beneath the surface
of such dire circumstance.
Author notes
Let me be a model of peace.
In a list
- Beautiful Words by Beautiful People I Know • next in list
- Songs Of My Soul - Love Letters • next in list
A contest entry
- (Poetic) Prayers and/or Visions of Peace by Backporchphilosopher.
700 points, ended January 10, 10 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
extremely well done
fragile peace negotiations that often fall back into war, tenative truces, and few voices of reason among the conflicting sides...all your bud..thoughtful, pensive, lovely write. -
Lovely. I love the metaphor of wounded souls being like crushed flowers which have gone into hiding to protect their fragile bud. I pray that you may be the peace that you seek to be.
-
Stunning
Even with all of the many, many magnificent writers that I have been honoured to read, both here & there (& you know exactly who I mean, all of them)...there is no one else that nurtures the soil of my Soul quite like you do. I've told you that so many times, in so many ways...& it is more true this day than ever before. Listed, bookmarked, savoured & saved. Sighhh...
You lil' seed~planter, you.
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