The Flower
for Austin
An open meadow, high in the mountains.
I sit cross-legged in a full skirt,
comfortable on the warm spring ground,
and there is suddenly a flower in my lap,
petal overlapping petal,
white as a formal invitation
in the sky-blue valley of my skirt.
And I take the tender blossom,
and lift it to my face.
Its sweet, wild and eager fragrance
tells me of imagined gardens and unvisited meadows
And I lift my eyes and see now-
this kind of flower is abundant
in this high meadow;
I still hold it a miracle
this singular bloom has come to me,
brought by the breezes into my lap.
I arise then in gratitude,
and take the blossom to my mountain home,
and float it in a clear glass bowl.
I smile at the flower,
at its multi-layered form and fragrance….
I will be smiling
even when the flower is gone….
Even when I am gone,
I will be smiling.