Joyous Celebration 03/13/1995

They lay on the ground in terminal repose.
I thought to lend assistance, instinct drawing me back.
There were obvious survivors among the exhausted victims,
as I noted a second of sadness for the less enduring.

Such a brief moment of glory springing from the earth,
with colors that winter-worn eyes have thirsted for;
coming forth through still dangerous climates,
with no guarantee of sufficient warmth to prolong existence.

The sustaining power of earth's sun filters it's magic,
beckoning life to awaken what earlier seemed to be unburied decay,
now looking like casualties being rescued and restored.
Before the ending of the day, they would all rise to victory!

Can victory be seen in laughing petals of nature's apology
for a long winter's gray ponderings of moodiness?
My own laughter threatens to overflow as I witness
a joyous celebration few are given admittance to.

Isaiah 40:8 "The grass withers, the flower wilts,
but the word of our God stands forever."

Susan Hebert Ajaz
copyright 03/13/1995
poetrypublisher.com/sajaz