Bleeding Hearts
My plantings of bleeding hearts are finally in bloom
There's a hint of sweet scent in their delicate perfume
On multiple stems of fragile heart-shaped flowers
they are thriving in the shade of my arbors and bowers
Gently, they sway when a willowy breeze blows by
Do I hear a soft whisper of sadness when they sigh?
Beauties, they are, but a tear dangles from each eye
It's as if they are filled with sorrow, and now they cry.
Is their sad weeping because they're in a garden?
If they wish to be wild again, I must beg their pardon
for wanting to enjoy the hue of their purple color.
Forgive me, tiny flowers. I'm not a botanist or scholar.
I've been selfish by keeping you confined like a child
when you'd rather be in the meadow, growing wild.
I've dug your roots and transplanted them near me,
removed you from your home. I've acted shamefully.
No wonder your heads droop and your hearts bleed.
No longer are you where you wish to drop your seed.
I'll collect your seedlings. In the meadow they'll be sown,
sprouting your lineage where gentle winds have blown.
I'll pray for their growth on lands where you once grew,
hoping this gesture will somehow be pleasing to you.
May your offspring flourish under nourishing Spring rain.
I promise I'll never tread through your meadow again.
June 5, 2022
Purple Flower Contest
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron Flores
Copyright © Jenna Logan | Year Posted 2022
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