The bloom had arrived,

and it was lovely at last –

vibrant, eye-catching,

.

glittering with dew,

glowing in the morning sun,

velvety, youthful,

.

supple to the touch,

emitting a seductive scent,

waiting to be plucked.

.

But spring was too brief,

and a summer storm had come.

The wind bent the stem.

.

The rain buffeted.

It left the petals mangled.

Then the sun came out.

.

Its sweltering heat

aged and withered that flower.

The bloom passed too soon.

.

What good is it now?

Does it have any use left?

Will it decay – die –

.

in a dusty vase?

Will it be left between the

pages of a book

.

and then forgotten?

No. Crush it. Extract its oil –

an anointing oil

.

placed upon the brow,

poured at the feet of the King,

stored for such a time

.

when lovers wed…when

we rise from the dead – part of

something eternal.

updated by @ceri-shaw: 11/24/19 06:16:51PM