The Lessons of Flowers
The first frost came yesterday morning.
I found it when I got an order for “An Artist” because this arrangement uses a special plant that I grow every fall. When I went out to retrieve it, its head was a little bowed and there were little crystals on it.
https://allthepeoplesflowers.com/product/an-artist/
I sighed. I was happy and sad at the same time. Sad because one season was ending and happy because a new one was beginning.
When one tends to flowers, they are more sensitive to seasonal changes. They feel with poignancy the hope of what is to come and the sorrows of what must die.
Though my homegrown florals for “An Artist” are at their end, I look forward at my planters that have been stocked with tulips for Spring. I also remember that this particular flower has gifted its beauty for its time. It has fulfilled its purpose. Moreover, it will be bloom again, God willing, next fall, marking the beginning of a busy, and hopefully cozy holiday season.
The thought of this was enough to put a smile on my face while marking, “An Artist” out of stock.
The lesson here is that season’s change, people change, things die and other things are born. Yet, we must not let the sadness of things that we lose block our vision of hope for the future.
In flowers, there is always something to look forward to next season, so we continue planting with hopes of the next harvest.
I found an old poem that I wrote that resonated with me after reflecting on this.
Lessons in Gardening
I had to stop
when I saw its green leaves
bowing in sorrow.
He had outgrown his home.
I remembered the last peace lily I lost.
I saw him crying, but I let him go,
unable to find time to ensure his survival.
Busy on a late afternoon, I lie him crisp
in the garden soil,
thinking he’d be gone soon.
But, many days later,
I still find the imprint of his once, glorious forest of green
leaves, and ivory lilies.
The bones never leave us
their imprint rests upon the gardens of
our souls.
They remind us, that we must stop everything
to save them
We must pour cool waters upon their warm branches.
We must give them space to grow,
a home no matter how small, no matter the cost.
Setting aside our pride,
dirtying hands to massage entangled roots
How beautiful their
browns and tans,
when those waters wash them,
multitudes of roots and routes of
rising above and falling below
that ebb and flow of sacrifice and peace.
of ease and hardship.
Don’t be afraid if you come across their bones
in your garden.
Remember the imprints of the lost leaves.
Consider that they will fossilize even after your time as time goes by.
Remember your losses, so that you might fight to save the others.