Peonie Buds

Love Is Real

Drenched by the rain
Of many stormy nights
The potential of a flower
Waits patiently
For the eventuality
Of better days
When the heat of the sun
Will return once again
So it can begin
Unfolding its blooms
And reveal its inner beauty

The predictable pattern
Of a natural phenomenon
That precedes its dying
Like a miracle happening
Right before our eyes
Witnessed so many times
That we have accepted
The validity
Of the sunlight’s energy
Invisibly transforming
The budding flower
Into its ultimate beauty

Yet we are blinded
By our disbelief
In our own invisible influences
The purely ethereal things
And the spiritual experiences
From the intangible world
That we instantly discredit
Or take for granted
Or rationally dismiss
Getting all caught up
In the material world’s bias
Where only the obvious
Or clearly visible things
Are seen as important or real
Yet, the corporeal, palpable world
So effortlessly believed
Belies the vitality of the soul
And leaves us hollow
In the end

Growing up and growing old
We slowly come to realize
That there are unseen forces
Surrounding all of us
Designed to help us grow
Miraculously, like a flower
And that there is power
In things purely spiritual
And seemingly magical
That can transform us
Just like sunshine
To a flower

And there is a splendor
Found in the metaphors
Of a budding flower
Because believing in love
Is so much easier
When you have learned
To trust in things
Invisible and unseen
Believing in what is felt within
And to wait, patiently
Like a flower
Knowing that sunnier days
Will eventually come