• Karen L Higgins

One More Bloom

Summer has grown tired.

Weary of holding its head up,

it droops and withers,

turning brown and insignificant.



I feel the same weariness

deep in my soul.

Tired, exhausted at times.

Stretched so thin

I feel holes I don't have the strength to mend.

Parched for peace

and normalcy.



It has been a season of extremes,

a teeter totter

of exhilaration

and grief.

Joy as dreams

and hard work

have born fruit

mingles

with overwhelming sadness

at a hole in our lives.


Weariness seeps through my heart,

leaving me

tired of dreaming

and planning

for the next big push.



I find myself

wandering the prairies and woods again,

dead wildflowers

crunching beneath my feet.

But then I stop and stare as I notice a splash of color.

Could it be?

Could these seemingly dead flowers

have found the strength,

the will,

for one more bloom?



I look around and see even more color,

blossoms I hadn't noticed

peeking beneath withered stalks.

They are not as

magnificent as those

who came before in abundance.

And yet,

they bloom with courage

and tenacity.



They who live under the same sky as I,

who drink in the same

slanted sunbeams,

and watch the foliage turn to orange and yellow.

They who feel the ground

growing cooler

beneath their roots,

even as I now need a sweater outdoors.



They who were created

by the same God,

whose purpose it was for them to bloom

to the end.

Even as I

am called to carry on

and dream and plan and work.



The same God

who gives them rest

and strength to bloom again,

will he not do so

even more to me?


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