The Flower and Ignorance


A flower is beautiful

insects seem to love it

I watch it

It seems not to worry

but then that is my assumption

This is all well

this is all good

not to worry

but what is unseen

still is

worry or not

known or not

This can be the rub

a grain of sand on pure glass

fine sitting there

leaving no influence or mark

as long as weight never materializes

or unknown move into known

as if time does not record

all the narrative

not only plucked pedals

of comforting fantasy

This question can be ignored

for our own good sake

why worry my little mind

over things too small to see

why were they ever there at all?

the very nature of speculation

its unanswerable question

and those distant storms

what can I do to change them

wave my magic fan?

A flower may not know

of the scythe coming

it could not help the outcome

so why worry indeed

but for we gardeners

results have requirements

we know all is not appearance

to the health of the soil

for many invisible elements

thrive or starve in our silence

all is not harvest

though always we harvest

There is place for concern

tough it may make trouble

take my eyes off the flower

put them on

an oncoming blade

one onlookers think

is as inevitable

as fate

Another choice

not always the easy one

not always the pretty one

Life ask other questions

I may take a stand

not let poison be sprayed

use effort instead of easy promises

for ignoring the whole context

may spell the flowers last light

though those who do not know

do not know or perhaps care;

I matter not only to me

but to a Whole Creation

Yes in the name of goodness

in the name of right

the name of honor


and if willing

Truth itself

we shed our own light

for some purpose

is inevitable

as avoiding death

but not ignoring it;

death is not the point

but it is a point coming

There comes a time

when the choice is ugly

but a necessity

when it is painful

and yet one I

could not live without

not and say;

I could not help this revelation

I would have gotten dirty

my clothes torn, stained

what then would others think?

so celebrate and enjoy ignoring

for that sure is worry free

yet covered in destiny


Life may call

insist in rain or in drought

in vineyards heavy bent

or sun too much to take;

that I did what was required

but not only what was desired

by good looks alone

or lust for good times

running from the sun

or hiding from the rain


Wisdom is not always

caring for the easy path

the simplest one

nor the thrill of risk

Wisdom can be

standing neck deep in mud

knowing effort and patience

with not a friend to help

nor a bloom to be seen

in those who tend the soil

these raw elements

teeming with Life

time and space

carry other interest

waiting on open eyes

Not all living will exclude suffering

as appealing as that promise be

Wisdom can be at times

fact over fiction


over blissful ignorance

and happy endings


At times

Love is not easy

Love may not be

always pretty

but it is

all we ever have

that flowers deep

into living color

and true

giving back

more than I give

if I care for it