So I put them in the sink, for the cool porcelain
Was tender,
And took out the tattered and cut each stem
On a slant,
Trimmed the black and raggy leaves, and set them all-
Roses, delphiniums, daises, iris, lilies,
And more whose names I don’t know, in bright new water-
Gave them
A bounce upward at the end to let them take
Their own choice of position, the wheels, the spurs,
The little sheds of the buds. It took, to do this,
Perhaps fifteen minutes.
Fifteen minutes of music
With nothing playing.
What is it with flowers and music? They just seem to go together. I see in my mind fields of flowers swaying in the wind with soft music, melodic in intent, harmonious in nature. I also see music playing as someone places flowers over a grave, and this music is darker, slower, upheaval in nature. Perhaps I am linking these images to the song, “Where Have All the Flowers Gone.” Maybe it’s because flowers are just music – their colors, their life, their promise of beauty and regeneration. Somewhere in our brain pathways we link flowers to song. Even when there are no flowers, even when there is no music, there is life playing. But it’s great to be reminded of it the colorful sprouts of heaven in our homes, gardens, and wild meadows, and forests.
What do flowers mean to you?
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