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