Tuesday, April 7, 2015

For Example: A Flower

I got the most beautiful flowers at the supermarket for Easter. Sure, they're dyed, but I love that they leave the water in the vase pink. My boyfriend asked me what the big deal was with flowers anyway. I had grown up seeing my dad giving all the women in his life flowers for every special occasion, and it was a gesture I loved so much. I came to think of the giving of flowers as the most gentlemanly, considerate act; flowers are always the ideal gift.

My boyfriend, however, didn't seem to buy this. So I really thought about why I love these fragrant, visual stunners, that only last a few days then wilt. There's something about them not being permanent, about possessing them in their prime that I  like. I tried to describe this, but to no avail.

Then today, thanks to Buzzfeed, I found a new favorite poem. Don't you just love it when someone else says exactly what you've been feeling/thinking? I hope you enjoy this poem as much as I do. 

For Example: A Flower
by Arkaye Kierulf

We are protected from so much pain. For example: graves.
The earth’s roots and brown-black blood are busy
covering the soft, violated bodies of our loves.
Death is a secret, and the rain with its many hands

washes off the streets to the gutters death’s thick surprise.
The automatic shutter of the eye never fails,

the courtesies of the tongue. What goes on in the rooms of houses
is guarded from us by the hardwood doors,

the carefully closed windows. Whatever was said or done,
night will come, eagerly, to clean up.

And death will shield us, in time,
from the sun’s megalithic promise:

Tomorrow, the same day.
Tomorrow, the same day.

For example: A flower
is the most beautiful lie.

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