The Wilted Flower: A Lamentation

I am a blue flower
in a garden amongst
other flowers
that bloom
as I have desired to,
but it is not my time,
it is not my season —
but if there is a reason,
it is one that I cannot
understand.

I have not felt the sun
upon my face,
the rain has
never reached
the depth of my roots,
and I have waited,
perhaps impatiently
and with anguish,
but the longer I wait,
the more I fear
that the sun
will never cast its light
upon me
and not even the rain
will see me as worthy
of redemption.

There is no joy
in being tucked away
in the darkest corner
of the garden,
unable to flourish
in a majestic way,as it was inscribed
upon the seed
before my time,
but the skies above
and the ground
that holds my roots
do not listen,
they do not hear
the subtle tremor
of the stem
that is not warm
or strong enough
to stand against these winds —
and withering away
in the bitter cold
is a silent terror
that my heart
is too fragile to bear.

I yearn for the autumn rain
and I seek the passing
of seasons, a chance
for renewal
and to feel, for once,
the warmth of eternal glories
from my petals
to my roots —
but will that day ever arrive?

Or is all this pondering,
and wistful longing,
and aimless lingering
in rosy reveries
a cause of delusion,
with flights of fancy
that my wilted self
can never attain?

Am I afraid to see
that I am just a flower
meant to lie
beneath a grave?
Am I afraid to see
that I will one day
be uprooted
in the face of death?
I am afraid of the truth
delivered to me
by souls so cold
that see me as the only flower
that hasn’t bloomed
in a garden of beautiful flowers
that bloom so gracefully.

Perhaps I must accept
this with grace:
it is not my season,
and I doubt that it will ever be,
the sun and the rain
do not show me mercy,
and I suppose
they do not have to —
and the winds
acknowledge my presence
but only to remind me
of how fleeting I am,
and how my season
was never meant to be.

But I would like to see
the sun one day,
I would like to feel the rain,
I would like to know
life as it ought to be,
where I am blooming,
upright,
radiant,
and beautiful
even in the eyes of those
that could not see it.

---

This poem was previously published on Medium.

I am moving some of my poems over to this site so that anybody can read them without a paywall.