The Quiet Things that Never Bloomed
A eulogy for flowers.
May earth never weigh heavy,
nor sea steal what you’ve known.
May the dead you love be far from reaped,
but rather, rightly sewn...
May they speak through every breath you levy.
Let the wind of past confessions
carry your name to a Holy stone’s ear,
letting God, in mad procession,
hear the prayers you’re too scared to say.
May you not be ashamed or withheld by your fear.
It is the flower that blooms in ruin,
Holding sinking souls as they drown.
It whispers…
May all the stars be clear and soft,
As you walk this path alone.
With ice and snow on your golden crown,
the sun will find you yet.
-written by M. Shultz,
with love.