Song of the Flower XXIII
I am a kind word uttered and repeated by the voice of Nature; I am a star fallen from the blue tent upon the green carpet.
I am the daughter of the elements with whom winter conceived; to whom spring gave birth; I was reared in the lap of summer and I slept in the bed of autumn.
At dawn I unite with the breeze to announce the coming of light; at eventide I join the birds in bidding the light farewell.
The plains are decorated with my beautiful colors, and the air is scented with my fragrance.
As I embrace slumber the eyes of night watch over me, and as I awaken I stare at the sun, which is the only eye of the day.
I drink dew for wine, and hearken to the voices of the birds, and dance to the rhythmic swaying of the grass.
I am the lover’s gift; I am the wedding wreath;
I am the memory of a moment of happiness;
I am the last gift of the living to the dead;
I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.
But I look up high to see only the light, and never look down to see my shadow.
This is wisdom which man must learn.
Photo by Shawn Michael
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