As flower fades

Who loves the flower
as she fades,
as petals start to droop and sag
as her bright gaze
grows dim with age
and crisp thoughts soften and fade?

The One who planted,
who placed the seed
and watered the sprout,
who fed her with love
and rejoiced in her blooming,
in the wafting of petals
in the breath of wind
and the flow of the future --
born of air, sun, and love --
through her stalk as she sinks;
that bright promise of tomorrow
that ripens even as her petals gray
and fall to lie, grounded,
pierced by the frosted grass.


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