Reflections of a Fallen Flower

~ A poem about flowers, love, life and letting go.~  

For my Mom, in which the struggle of being a fresh cut flower is very real.

by

Jean Miller Spoljaric

Once, so vibrant;

Once, so very beautiful;

Once, so giving of joy;

Once, so full of life; 

Full: of Life...Once...

Now the silky paper-like flower weeps like that of a billowy tear.

What once stood tall and proud, now suffers from the wrath of old age, its weakened spine is but a softened wisp of its once vibrant past.

Its stem, softened, frail and tattered, it's tired and its weak. 

It has given its all, it's reaching the end.

It has given: its all....

Its saturated stem no longer wants to drink, the days are long and hard, then night falls, its lifespan is coming to an end. 

The petals have become too heavy, the struggle to hold on is too great...slowly they drop...slowly they drift, one by one...into a blank space.

Slowly... the colors fade, they become muted and washed away. 

No more can it bare the weight of living, the burden of life has become to much to take. 

The "pretty" is fading away... slowly, slowly... fading away.

There's a certain beauty in dying that not everyone can see... 

The crinkled skin of the worn petal has a special softness like that of fine colored tissue paper.

Its beauty will always be remembered. 
Its beauty is not lessoned by its fragile state. Its beauty is heightened by its strength. 
The beauty is what's left behind, it becomes the lessons, the lessons become the beauty...it leaves a flower trail of unconditional love in its path. 
The beauty is in what it has taught those who have loved it. 
Its beauty will live on forever. It becomes one within your heart, it intertwines with your soul...
You may not always be able to touch it, but you will always, remember how it made you feel.
Once, full of life...
Now, a life full.