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.

By Khalil Gibran

Photo by Shawn Michael

Happy Gardening!