For Ruth
The flower has a purpose beyond beauty,
A regenerative function we don’t see.
Its power, in being, is touched, and gives,
And by this mutual exchange, it lives.
Its perfect kind grows on just to be seen.
Its petals glow, even at dusk, a sheen
That’s inner lit, only darkness can dim.
In sunlight it fills the eye to the brim.
My love, the chrysanthemum is you,
As columbines and tiger lilies are too.
Every summer our garden expands,
Pouring, into the cupping of our hands,
Perfumes, petals, color and energy,
Filling a single life with you and me.
Posted on our 41st wedding anniversary.
