Flourish
Whatever it is inside the larkspur
that says grow, grow, grow,
I want to know it, too. Want
to obey the voice that urges me on,
even in frost, even in rain.
I want to rise out of my own dried debris,
want to know how it is to die and return,
new and yet somehow the same.
And what is it that fuels the drive?
I want to know that— the divine
encouragement that knows
when to wait, when to push,
when to wilt, when to flourish,
when to swell into oh! bright bloom.
I want to know myself as wick,
to be lit, to be the fire itself.
“I want to know THAT –” Ah, your desire to know is so precious and so “felt” in this poem!! I’m so glad you are driven to know, because it keeps you curious. And that curiosity is the source of sooooo many gifts you give all of us in your poems, your voice, your love. Oh Rosemerry! How I love and appreciate you! Namaste, Augusta
oh Augusta! I FEEL so appreciated, thank you for the gift of this, and it is sooooo mutual, how I appreciate you and your gifts. xoxo r