Who says life finds a way? This flower.

What lesson can we learn from this little flower? Everything important. Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

I took this picture this morning. Dogwoods are blooming in North Carolina. I’ve been photographing them ever since they started peeking out a week or so ago. But this particular bloom intrigued me. Why?

Because it’s blooming on a broken branch.

The branch was half severed during a storm in the late summer/early fall. It never died, though. The leaves stayed green until they reddened to brown in the fall. I’ve been watching this branch since then, waiting for spring and wondering if it would bloom like the rest of the tree.

It is. Blooming. A little stunted, a little slower, but blooming nonetheless. Partially severed from the rest of the tree, this little blossom is still struggling for survival. It has a message of beauty and purpose to spread to us. No doubt this flower would prefer to still be on a limb that is fully attached to the tree it comes from, but it’s taking what’s been given and going with it.

It occurred to me that this flower is much like us right now. Do we wish we weren’t stuck in isolation? Would we prefer to be able to go to dinner and movies and parties like normal? (Okay, the parties thing is not me, but I understand I’m less social than the normal human being.) It would definitely be nice to go out shopping without wondering if this is the time we pick up the COVID-19 virus and bring it home to our families.

Yeah, we’re all blooming on our own broken branches right now. But we’re blooming, nonetheless. We’re helping each other and spending time with family members that maybe had been a little neglected, tending to gardens and cleaning our homes. Our children are still learning from teachers who are overcoming what would once have been insurmountable obstacles to teaching.

Life is going on. To quote Jeff Goldblum (and either Michael Crichton or Steven Spielberg?), “Life finds a way.” We are alive. We are finding a way to live.

Poem: Acquittal (not what you’re thinking…or is it?)

Acquittal

By Michelle Garren Flye

No other flower matches the daffodil

For merrymaking in spring.

Enjoy its jocund spirit for it lasts

But a momentary fling.

The yellow blossoms nod and sway, but

The moment is gone too soon.

They acquit themselves in splendor

And are gone within a moon.

No time spent gazing at yellow buds

Should be considered wasted.

For the moment ends, and memory remains

Of the golden glory so ill-fated.

If only all acquittals left such a taste?

If only all fates were so well spent.

If only we took the time to be sure

We knew what each one meant.

I’m Building an Army of Daffodils (poem and pictures)

With great respect for Emily Dickinson

I’m Building an Army of Daffodils (with pictures as proof)

By Michelle Garren Flye

I’m building an army of daffodils.

It grows larger every day.

New recruits swell the ranks,

Bursting to take up the fight.

You’d think they’d be frightened,

But slender stems are strong,

And I’ve found them guarding

The most dark and unfriendly places.

Time and toil cannot dim golden rays.

Weather cannot bring them down.

I’m heartened by their constant grace,

Humbled by their passing allegiance.

National Poetry Month: Poem 12

Please keep in mind that these poems are written very much off-the-cuff, usually when I sit down at the computer to update this blog. So they’re very rough. Some of them aren’t very good. Some of them I’m not sure about. Maybe some of them will speak to some of you, maybe others won’t appeal to anyone. It’s a fun thing to try, though, writing a poem a day. I highly recommend it.

Poem 12

Pink Moon

By Michelle Garren Flye

 

When the moon turned pink,

The flowers bloomed and you said you loved me.

But there’s no such thing as a pink moon

And that makes love extraordinary.

 

Moonlight doesn’t change colors.

Nature is what makes the flowers bloom.

Everyone knows the moon is green

…Except when it’s blue.