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They move to the breeze Created by life’s movements, Seeding nations, trusting The world’s touch. We may hold our breath And say it was taken away When it was only our words That disappeared. They offer themselves up Like earth’s fingers Pointing to the stars, Sun warming their drawing stems, Reflecting the innocence of god, Over and over hoping to be noticed For their lack of any casual mistake. Pull them close and breathe, Collect them in glass, Protect them at last; They are each a living mirror Reflecting our truth.

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Jennifer Fenn

Date: 4/1/2021 1:56:00 PM

Yes, flowers are innocent creations of God and we need to take care of them! Great poem!

Sally Eslinger

Date: 12/20/2020 10:56:00 PM

Vernon,I floated on the exquisite elegance of these lines, esp the flowers as fingers. I will hold that image forever. This is a true seeing into the soul of Mother Nature! A Fav for me. May God continue to bless your poetry! Merry Christmas,

Vernon Witmer
Date: 12/21/2020 1:44:00 PM

"...on to the truth of our beings becoming." reading your poems is like standing in a summer shower and seeing each of the raindrops as they pass. They sparkle with the wisdom of experience and they whisper, "look" "look" forever "look".

Quoth Theraven

Date: 12/18/2020 8:49:00 PM

vernon, I like the colorful truth in this poem's pedals. -Richard

Vernon Witmer
Date: 12/19/2020 1:04:00 PM

thank you Richard, your portfolio has given me endless pleasure and is like reading an "Encyclopedia of Truth" when you write things like, "the world is yours" the inspiration is almost like the first drop of rain.