Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow ~

My last lone peony from my garden...

Their stay is much too brief...here today and gone tomorrow~

Peonies

By Mary Oliver

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready

to break my heart

as the sun rises,

as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers.

and they open

pools of lace,

white and pink

and all day the black ants climb over them.

boring their deep and mysterious holes

into the curls,

craving the sweet sap,

taking it away

to their dark, underground cities,

and all day

under the shifty wind,

as in a dance to the great wedding,

the flowers bend their bright bodies,

and tip their fragrance to the air,

and rise

their red stems holding

all that dampness and recklessness

gladly and lightly,

and there it is again

beauty the brave, the exemplary,

blazing open.

Do you love this world?

Do you cherish your humble and silky life?

Do you adore the green grass , with it's terror beneath?

Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,

and softly,

and exclaiming of their dearness,

fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,

with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,

their eagerness

to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are

nothing, forever?

Blessings~