Wild Flowers

A poem about the cycle of life.

Wild flowers

They spring up to life,in the field where The Creator plants them

They are nurtured buy sun ,water,and feral soil,

They proclaim the glory of the artistry of their Creator

They grow and multiple until  they reach their glorious peak   

They wither,and fade into dust and are no more

All is orchestrated by the Creator's hand

Wild flowers

Artists praise your beauty,and try to capture your glory with paints on canvas

Farmers detest you presence ,and toil to remove you from the soil

For in their eyes you are nothing but a weed that competes and hinders the growth of their valued crops.

Wild flowers

Man is like the wild flower of the field

They spring to life in the world where The Creator has  placed them

They are nurtured and blessed from the helplessness of  infancy to the glory of adulthood by the hand of The Creator

Some grow to have families ,some grow alone

Some grow toward the Son of their Creator,some grow toward another in darkness

They all reach their peak of their glory,

Then they wither,fade into dust and are no more

All is orchestrated by the Creator's hand

Wild flowers

In the soil of some people's hearts a relationship with a wild flower was cultivate,and appreciated for it beauty.

In the soil of some people's hearts a relationship with a wild flower was uprooted and valued as a weed that  competed and hinders the growth of their dreams .

Wild flowers

Relationship are like wild flowers

They will only live,grow,become a thing of thriving beauty,if we nurture them.

When a wild flower fades and withers away their is no seance of singing it's praise

If we didn't do so while it was alive.

Written by Stephen J. Vattimo 

June 7, 2015

Reviews

[iamimaginary]

Life in its simplest form
We begin
We are what we allow ourselves to be
We end

You make me envy the flower