Poem

Lone Flower

You were a flower of ravishing beauty

colors of kaleidoscopic complexity

shimmering, shadowed, sun-splashed

and there you were----- suddenly, 

standing in the middle of my path

I was halfway home

back bent beneath the

weight of time and duty,

portents of resignation

just around the next bend.

My heart was heavy

and my hands were full

and there you were;

defiant, singular, untrammeled

as if you’d chosen that spot 

to bloom for me alone

I stopped and reached for you

(Of course) 

They say the one true flower

blooms but one time

for one man

and so I had to stop for you 

that one time

in that one place

and reach for you 

rising from that dusty path.

I damaged a few petals

(in the process)

that fell to the dusty road.

I even bent your stem

and I am so sorry.

I should have known better,

I am so very sorry.

But you will bloom again

I know that you will bloom again 

The best that can be said 

is that I didn't try to steal your heart,

rip you roots and all

from the earth

to press between the pages 

of this old dusty book.

I had sense enough to only touch,

that one time, in that one place

which was the wrong time 

and the wrong road-----

But it couldn’t be helped.

For this flower was meant for me!

If only for one day

along a well trod path

that will never be the same.

I don’t know anything about flowers;

can’t tell a dahlia from a daffodil

from a bleeding heart from an orchid

from a longing from a loving

but this is the thing I know

as sure as a smile when

caught in a summer shower.

My solace is a place

outside of time

beyond the edges of maps.

Here is a field of flowers

swaying in the wind,

straining to receive the sun’s rays.

I will find you there

in the chapter I have written,

when my loads are lighter

when my work is done,

my little flower,

the hundreds of ways of you

all together as one

and the summer wind

and the sun and the stars and the moon

waiting there in this hidden meadow

my ever blooming you.

7/16/19