Sunday, October 26, 2014

That One Time I Wrote a Poem About Loss

The Buddling

"I see a pretty flower!" The young child cried.
Pointing at a beautiful bud on the road's side.
Down she stooped to pick it up, to claim it as her own.
But her father, intervening, said it wasn't fully grown.

A new day dawned, fresh and full without blight.
The buddling was forgot, put out of Child's sight.
Left to it's own, it thrived and blossomed anew,
Bringing light and joy to all who passed by and through.

When ready to be plucked from it's mothering limb,
The flower was discovered by the young child again.
Eagerly toting home her most beautiful treasure,
She vased it all alone with childlike pleasure.

The day went by and the flower gave display.
Not one petal brought disappoint or dismay.
Though if scrutiny were given on said flower,
There would be found a luster lacking by the hour.

The hours linked arms, giving way to a new day.
The life-giving sun now brought on wilt with it's rays.
Silently it came and touched a stray petal.
It fell overnight without sound, without meddle.

The child awoke and was loathed there to find
Her precious spring flower locked in death's bind.
"Father!" she cried out in panic and in fright,
"Father, my flower began to wilt in the night!"

The Father remarked on the early demise
Of a flower that should've lasted out sunrise.
He studied the vase, hoping to find a cause,
And found in a moment what the trouble was.

"You've filled this vase, with water poor and tainted,
It's little wonder our flower's gone and fainted.
Lift it softly from the poisonous water,
Treat it with love, and careful! dear Daughter."

The flower was lifted and carefully cleansed.
The vase purified as the child made amends.
"I'm sorry, my lovely," she softly repeated.
'Til Father returned with the vase now repleated.

The crisp, sparking water was still and alive.
Our tender, scared flower placed there in to derive.
The child stooped to pluck up the petal now lost,
Realizing her mistake -though mending -came with cost.

But hope was found as the tired flower drank up
Living water that filled it's purified cup.
A new morning dawned and found a new life:
Our Flower stood tall despite the darkness' strife.

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