Sunday Sabbath: Tiny Desert Flowers

When I’m alone the flowers are really seen…They are felt as presence. They live and die in a few days; they keep me closely in touch with process, with growth, and also with dying.” –May Sarton

If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.” -Jack Kornfield

She who loves roses must be patient and
not cry out when she is pierced by thorns.
–Olga Broumas

(both in Open Mind by Diane Mariechild)

Mariechild goes on to observe that the joy and beauty of flowers may well rest in its fleetingness: “The ghost of death blows through each bloom.” I’ve previously shared my semi-religious experiences with tiny flowers:

Tiny flowers know April 2013 003
that hope blooms eternal
pushing the way
through cracked stone

reclaiming
repopulating
rebirthing the Earth

What is a seed
but a miracle
right in front of me

What am I
but a miracle
to be seeing this right now…

via Woodspriestess: Tiny Flowers | Theapoetics.

On our recent trip to California we went tourmaline mining in the desert outside of Carlsbad and we also went to Pismo Beach. At both locations, the tiny flowers of those ecosystems caught my eye. Different than the tiny flowers of the “temperate forest biome,” that I call home, but perfection just the same:

Like flower growing from rock March 2013 139
the world is full of tiny, perfect mysteries.

Secrets of heart and soul and landscape
guarded tenderly
taking root in hard crevices
stretching forth
in impossible silence.

Sleeping
resting
waiting
watching
knowing

that all one needs
is a crack in stone
and a seed of possibility…

via Woodspriestess: Stoneflower | Theapoetics.

Categories: death, nature, poems, quotes, sabbath, theapoetics | 2 Comments

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2 thoughts on “Sunday Sabbath: Tiny Desert Flowers

  1. Pingback: Woodspriestess: Summer’s Surrender | Theapoetics

  2. Pingback: Day 22: Lovely Desire (#30DaysofBrigid) | WoodsPriestess

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