Friday, April 30, 2021

the poppy

 i saw a poppy in the field

waving its bright red head in the air

one fine summer afternoon

and i said

'the storm is coming

dark on the horizon

it will tear your petals

from your face

and crush your body

bend it down into the earth

'why can't you be stronger 

like the thistle over there

with its spikes and firm flowers

no storm will worry that one'

and the poppy replied

'my beauty is inseparable 

from my fragility

just as the thistle's beauty

comes from its daunting strength

'when the storm comes

we will all do as our nature requires

and afterwards you will remember us

for the truth we embodied

and not lament us 

for what we could not be'