White Spring Flower

— Marjorie Schallau

     For “The Journey”

enticed by the lure of the sun
becomes open, vulnerable,
flattens eager petals
to reach to its utmost,
fully receive the warmth
that awakened its senses,
to blossom, to grow.

Just one short season
to be and to do all that it knows–
to live and then to die.

And I, with many springtimes come and gone
hesitate
let spring slip into summer
fall into winter
my beauty still hidden
contained
waiting
as though
there will always be another spring.

One thought on “White Spring Flower

  1. When I read this poem, I feel like a flower, opening petal by petal in the spring warmth. (Is it strange that I feel like a flower?)

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