existing in time

do I count the petals that have fallen?
do I count the flowers that still bloom?
do I leave you then to grow, knowing you will be lost to sun, wind, and rain?
do I cut you now, to beautify and then perish in my room?
either way, our days are numbered


My favorites are those

first flowers
that grow out from the cold heavy seeming death of winter's sleep
saying I am alive, I arise, spring's promise I do keep

and those last blooms,
that hold tight to petal,
and fight to bloom
despite the ever encroaching cold and gloom

the first and the last
unto both, my heart holds fast


AND I WILL BE HERE

And I will be here
with you, till the last
I will love you
and hold you dear, all
beyond the day, the last petals fall.

Leaves and petals blown away,
scattered on the ground
withered and dried away
nothing but twigs and decomposing death can be found
And I will be here still
loving you
till all that is living
in you
is gone from sight
and I will cry and grieve
that long cold winters night
but still in my heart believe
with a faith that clings
to the certainty of spring
that it is just for now, you seem lost underground
nowhere to be found
but you do survive
ever green, and alive
and I will have faith and grace in pain
that I will see you again
all of you,
close to me
blooming free
that none of you
will be lost
how could you be
because I will be here still
loving you
and when I wither, and when I fall
I hope to be rejoined together all
because my love will be here
still,
it will go on and on for eternity
flowing with or without me
a fragement of divinity
will be here still
loving you

and I will be here
loving you