If you’ve noticed my absence for the past few days, it’s because my dear sweet mother transitioned from this life into the vast and unknowable realm of the spirit. I’ve been her caregiver for the last five years, and it was with loving care that I stroked her face, whispered in her ear, and saw on her way.
Anne Peach 1934-2022
This beautiful poem by Sue Vincent and her accompanying photos speak eloquently of the arc of life as expressed through flowers. She wrote it a couple of years before she too passed with grace from this world. I’d like to share it with you now.
Flowers
by Sue Vincent
There were always flowers.
Orchids pinned upon a mother’s breast,
All lace and diamonds.
Long black gloves
And painted lips,
As she left, laughing.
A child who watched
As the door closed.
There were flowers…
Yellow tulips,
Cellophane and ribbon
A girl who blushed
As the curtain fell
Upon the stage;
She cradled them,
A first bouquet.
There were flowers
Roses and lilies
White, in hands and hair,
Their fragrance mingled
With frankincense,
A ghost of awe and wonder
Finding a home
In memory.
There were flowers…
Rainbow hued,
Everywhere.
Greeting a life newborn,
With love and welcome,
Lighting stark severity
As a babe cried.
There were flowers…
Daisy chains
Around his brow,
Crowning him with sunlight,
In laughter,
In simplicity,
In love.
There were flowers,
Three roses,
Red as life,
Placed in a cold hand,
One for each heart
Saying farewell.
Too long,
Too soon.
There are flowers,
Heather and bluebells
Painting horizons
Still unexplored.
Pathways of petals
Laugh at our feet,
Inviting.
In joy or sorrow,
When the tears fall,
There are always flowers.
From:
Myths of the Mirror 