Tony DeLorger © 2011
Sun-drenched in summer’s warm breath,
when life profuse erupts from the seed of dreams,
the delicate blooms of beauty stand tall,
sucking life from the dry air,
and breathing light in the miracle of growth.
I ponder my place within this grand scheme,
surrounded by the impossible course of being,
the unimaginable intricacies of struggle and survival,
and I so at ease with my lot.
So much I take without thought, without consideration,
life like an endless play, each act never an ending,
but an unfolding of a heart,
the gentle whisper of truth in subtle tones.
The seasons of life come and go,
and I like a single bloom weather change,
absorb what gives nourishment and cringe from fury of storm,
the tempering of balance and penance of bad choices.
My consideration for all I know is puerile,
in the face of perfection,
a lone flower set in the rich brown earth,
connecting the vast spectrum of life.
It is all I can do to observe this state of being,
to realise I am but a meek and self-involved soul,
bearing witness to a world blessed,
a world with which I long for connection.
My seasons come and go; my shallow breath in rhythm
with the turning of life, the cycles of being.
I pray that life grants pity on arrogance,
and rewards a hopeful heart
for all that is.