To the flower.


To the flower.

I’m sorry,
that had to be incomprehensible pain
to be ripped from your plant
just when you were blooming
hoping for bees
to fertilize
to make seeds, a future.

But he plucked you I know,
doing it in love
of your beauty,
of me,
of the day.

He brought it with hearts in his eyes
one sunny morning
wanting nothing but to make me smile.

I talked to him later,
asked that next time he bring a photo,
leaving other flowers where I like them,
still on the plant.

He said he’d plucked you from a patch of your family
like a field of orange,
the world might not miss just you.

Then perhaps you can forgive him,
of your kind there were so many
and of him, that man,
and the love he has for me,
there is only one.

6 thoughts on “To the flower.

  1. Thank you Jeni for how your talent touches and inspires others! …
    From that floral pain and your gentle literary lesson, this poetic memorial brings a kindness, an understanding, a forgiveness to the bearer and the receiver, a plea for forgiveness to nature. But it also brings a joy to the lonely plucked from the world, now at home, without others of their kind. In solitude craving togetherness, contemplating hope. Hope of life to flourish again upon release from our own glass jar. Hope for all to go forth in a more thoughtful way. Kinder to mother nature and others, mindful she watches. Watches us spreading seeds on our journey, growing good for all.

    Liked by 1 person

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