Flower Stems
If heaven were a place
to walk without fear before an audience
jaded in judgement,
a place to love without concern
about running alone on earth’s curve,
a place to rise in the morning
without tripping on stones by evening,
a place to play in dangerous rivers
without swallowing water,
a place to carry wood to a fire
that never burns out,
a place to throw out regrets
with the dust swirls of empty rooms
A place where traffic lights are all green,
the sun sets peacefully after dinner,
and sleeves are never too short.
Then resilience would wither,
muscles atrophy,
bones relinquish density
without resistance to strengthen them
in a field where flowers fill every space
and their stems, though succulent,
are the sturdiest pillars.
First published in Academy of the Heart and Mind January 2019
Photo by virginia lackinger on Unsplash