I prefer to behold
the blossoms
Just before they flower,
Before they’ve seen too much
Of the different world around,
Before they try this and that,
And wonder why everything
Around them
Is so difficult to become.
Within a fragile bud,
Was once a seed
That had all the life
Within it,
Already.
A blossom, was once
A bud, was once
A seed
Surrounded by just one thing,
Soil,
One environ, so simple
Yet full of all it needed.
–
But, once clipped for beauty
Along with its kind
in full flower,
Life takes its course,
And all the nutrients
Seep out into the water,
Stagnant –
And it is time to move on
To something different
Another stage.
One bright blossom falls,
one bends its head,
Protective green shrouds,
Once illustrative of life
Still curl under the weight of
Passing time.
I prefer, to behold
the blossoms
just before they flower.
[written 3-20-11]
This made me think of the poem “Risk” by Anais Nin
And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to Blossom.
Lee, I’m so glad you’ve stopped by to read! 🙂 Thank you. The contrast between the take on blossoming of “Risk” and “A Community of Blossoms” is rather striking. I do like very much what you’ve posted of “Risk”: it’s powerful, and I think also true. I don’t think I’ve read Anais Nin before. What both poems do have in common is that they indicate that there is a tremendous power within the bud!