When the tulip bulb emerges,
from it’s winter sleep, and pokes it’s head
above the frozen earth, we welcome it.
The warm gesture of Spring.
But deep in our hearts,
we know that it’s red vibrance will soon fade;
the once-lustrous petals falling quietly.
Through our fingers.
So too is it true that all beauty is fleeting,
that our youth, and even our being,
will also pass back into the earth.
Like old petals.
But looking up from the fallen, our grief,
we can feel that the warmth of Spring is still here,
made all the better by that one little red tulip.
So fragile, yet so enduring.
And so too may we endure
knowing that the tulip which brought so much joy
isn’t really gone, it’s just sleeping.
In our hearts.
What a beautiful poem and tribute, Eric. I am sorry for your loss. My heart is with you and all those who love Scott.
Thank you, Vicki.