Posted on July 13, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
The day she was born
a perfect peach lily bloomed in my garden. I had been waiting for it, day after day checking the tight green buds for signs of an opening. When it began to peek out, delicate petals with just a blush of color were unveiled, supported by a strong, slender stalk. In the days that followed more and more buds awoke to the world.
For the next few years they grew together, each spring showing new promise. Her limbs grew stronger, her courage to show her promise to the world bloomed with each passing season. New talents and interests expanded her growth as a woman and urged her forward, sometimes clinging tightly to home, others pushing her forward into the unknown.
I searched for signs of that lily this year, hoping that baby blush would emerge once more. Five weeks of waiting, wishing, missing her, dreaming of what she would be like when she reappeared. Fleeting images of blue-eyed beauty flicker in my mind’s eye as I think of her as she used to be, preparing myself for what she has become. Tomorrow she will reappear, the tender blush will bloom again, a strong base supporting her into the next season of growth.
image courtesy of rosaflora.com