Anil Deo | + Follow Poet |
Verse | + Fav Poem | Comment | Email | Print |

Rhodies

Where we seek the Face and Hands of God
Both rhodies and azaleas welcome one and all
One keeps her leaves, waxy and large
The Other is eager-beaver to sunlight power
Blossoming long before it's smaller green foliage -
Explosions of joy, volcanoes of glory and praise
Yet, the Rhododendrons bide. Smiling wide inside ...
Those with broken hearts begin to doubt
If the Rhododendrons will bloom this year
"O they will, and what a parade of pastels will out!
Yes, I await with a grateful heart," I said. Without
Knowing what I was saying, or why.
Today the lavender and scarlet rhodies
smiled back at me: "Thanks for having faith."
(c)Deo, 05/15/2018

NOTE: Faith is believing in tomorrow's gorgeous blossoms, even when your heart may be broken.

Copyright © Anil Deo | Year Posted 2018

Please Login to post a comment

Lisa Ricci Date: 5/16/2018 3:11:00 AM Oh Anil. Good Morning. This is beautiful. Yes, those rhodies will show time after time with a a wondrous smile at that. Where would we all be without faith. Well done Login to Reply Anil Deo Date: 5/16/2018 5:17:00 AM Why thank you, Princess Ricci. I must confess, I read something from Pandita Sanchez that haunted me about broken hearts. Maybe my LORD (others say a MUSE) added an encouragement toward Faith. shalom, shalom Lisa & all PS.

Jan Allison Date: 5/15/2018 5:44:00 PM such a descriptive write Anil keep on believing because we know the flowers will bloom again and again and a broken heart can in time heal and find love once more:-) hugs jan xx Login to Reply Anil Deo Date: 5/15/2018 8:51:00 PM Thanks Sis! Yes, Jan, and amen. It takes faith to trust airline pilots, taxis, even those who take our (credit) cards in stores ... amazing we demand more of the Spirit in proof before we believe. Flowers, especially the earliest crocuses, speak to me about their faith (that sun, not frost, will come tomorrow). I once wrote of the testimony of the humble crocus who have faith to pop first, though many die in the late frost, winter's last hurrah.