The flower I did not want

The flower I did not want

I asked for blooms of colour, extraordinary grace and miracles

I did not ask for you.

You turned up on the bare branch

In those last weeks

When expected spring was taking too long.

You fought through march’s fickle ever-changing skies,

Winters last cruel blast.

I asked for branches abundant with pink blossom, for all the world to see.

I did not ask for you.

You endured the long nights in darkness,

The unexpected relapses into cold,

The dead ends of frost.

Invisible work. Unappreciated.

I asked fields of adventure,

For stories, for joy.

I did not ask for you.

You cling to the tree,

Petals spindle out to hoped for sunlight.

You are a hard lesson.

Emerging from months spent at winters graveside.

I asked for frills, for depth,

For spectacular.

I did not ask for you.

You are quiet. You are slow.

A fragile resurrection.

You are delicate.

Born of endurance.

Strong. Oh so beautiful.

I asked for a garden full of flowers.

Patience - I did not ask for you.

But I am grateful.