Private Showing
There is a Canna Lily blooming over my trashcan.
No one sees the bloom but me.
The plant grows tall and when I walk outside,
Her vivid face I see.
My neighbor’s over-watering
Delivers moistened earth.
The thick stem rises from her root
A tall and leafy birth.
The red-orange face asserts and states
Her presence very clear.
Flaunting the color of conviction
She stares at me: a dare!
This Cannaceae is a contender - sure,
The award for Big and Bold;
She is not shy; she won’t be missed;
My attention she will hold!
Is this a waste of resource, when
Only I can see?
Could Nature be more circumspect,
Display for all humanity?
Or does she challenge with this gift
My courage to ignite?
Do I have the time for wondering
What for me is “right”?
There is a Canna Lily blooming over my trashcan.
No one sees the bloom but me.
This singular extravagance provides
A certain luxury….
Or has Wild Mother’s presence
Already moved ahead?
Is she sauntering on with laughter:
“Move on! You ain’t yet dead!”
Sarah sarah@powerupeight.com
Photo: www.bing.com
