Monday, March 19, 2012

For a Young Woman Who Died of Addiction

View of Mount Diablo, San Leandro, CA
When your mother spoke of you, she said Lilly
A name that brings to mind timeless light and beauty
And don’t we often speak of love through flowers?
Most especially one so enduring?
She set aside the sunniest spot for you
Bathed and pruned your pedals
Tried to shade your roots from burn
So you’d be ready to flower 
In time for Easter
Who knew how hard it is for lilies to adjust
To a garden environment
Or how stubborn they could be
Not docile like the rose or daffodil
No, lily of the pond, of the valley
You wild, wild flower of Heaven,
Whose nature requires constant priming
Under the most optimum conditions,
Must be protected at all times
Therefore only God can grow a perfect lily
Only He tenders optimum conditions
Only He can force this bud to bloom
In time for Easter
And so one thinks God himself
Chose the lily
Over all others in creation
To serve as His flower of resurrection
Let’s think of Lilly now, abloom
In the everlasting garden
Among countless departed blossoms of every hue
All today in chorus, they are singing:
Oh Lilly, Tis heavenly to be here with you!
Tis Easter every day now with you!


 Copyright (c) 2012 Ellen McCarthy. All rights reserved.

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