A Single Wildflower
A wildflower on the path.
A burst of color in the abandoned quarry.
A week ago, it was not there.
A week from now, it will be withered, limp.
So, stop. Now. Take it in. Take it’s picture.
Savor it. Now. Remind yourself
that it is the details of life that remind us
why, in the face of all darkness,
About this poem
When I was in the depths of my depression, my therapist had me constantly look around myself at the beautiful details of life. A wildflower. A cup of coffee. A blue sky. To look for the beauty and realize despite how I FELT, beautiful things, God gifts, were all around me.
That lesson stays with me.