To Still the Striving

even the lilies of the field
have growth pains– bursts of
   the touch of sunlight
   the nearness of neighbor
   the feel of whisping grasses.
their bells, like ears, enjoy
a perpetual tide of soft change:
a)n almost im(perceptible music.
remember sped-up science videos
of growth, of opening flowers?
remember how sometimes
tiny bits of struggling botany got stuck
together? how stretching meant
  ^  sep  ^  par  ^  rat  ^  ting  ^
things that were tangled, meant delicately
detaching disbalanced (s)well(s) where
process had outgrown symmetry, where
millions of the infinite places
flesh|metselfsame|flesh sought freedom
such that still only one remained,
more glorious than had it ceased its struggle.
slowly. silently. quietly content,
tongued petals unfurl.
reach out. invert themselves
vulnerably to elemental warmth,
nature’s nourishing.
see? the lilies of the field
but worry not:
Let Us Be

c. Kate Gough

/ edit.jan30.06 / edit.sept30.10/ edit.Oct30.11

Matthew 6 : 28-29
Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow. They toil not, neither do they spin,and yet I say unto you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

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