FLOWERS

22 SPRING 2020 In time of year when birds refuse to sing, and hot decaying winds blow through the trees, for those who still lament the end of spring the eye of heaven shines to scorch the seas.

And in this light two flowers grow apart with each a lonely grief that they withhold, and sinking towards a life with fading heart still searching for a love that grows from gold.

In pride they look above the humble grass.

In gall they spit upon forgiving dirt, and vainly view the world through mirrored glass afraid that fate will sow more tears than worth.

While time knows all, it does not free reveal, for those who live past spring must learn to feel.

The soft peony looks as much its worth with beauty that outwits the poet’s pen, first grew in spring’s blue sky and watered earth now tears are dry, it seeks to love again.

And eager with the virtue it conserves to reach atonement’s gold with longing hand to seek the eyes that purity deserves to fill the well that is the heart’s demand.

But through the blushing eyes from which it looks contempt on those who lay among the grass, and colored by the flirting leaves of books perceives not humble joys but rather class.

In judging petals, disregarding roots finds hopeless love that yields but sour fruits.

The violet hyacinth hides heart within since mourning dew escaped its many blooms, now dry and wilting, still confines chagrin once flowr’ing petals now become its tombs.

Although it knows that spring is season’s pawn and nature’s deeds are no cause for alarm, it sinks to pride with all its reason gone in actions plain perceives a seed of harm.

How could there be a joy if spring can end?

How unforgiving towards ungolden love? when history has seen it wilt and bend it spends its time afraid of clouds above.

Although past grief is painful to relive, the wisdom comes in choosing to forgive.

In blissful quiet birds no longer sing and sun-warm leaves chartreuse among the trees, a chance to nurture selfhood after spring while traveling winds caress reflecting seas.

Now april showers have all come and gone but those with open hearts know love will reign, accepting eyes let in the light of dawn forgiving past offense is one’s own gain.

Although our faults can injure darling buds; beloved, we must extend our trembling hands, to meet the raining blooms and quaking floods for love grows in the things we can’t command.

And when our grief forbids, our hearts reveal oh flower, it is victory to feel.

Story by Jason Liu Illustration by Grace Dooly Design by Erin McLoughlin

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