Call the Midwife2012

Flowers take many forms. Each one has its story, and its roots. Each one unfurls, from its bulb or its kernel.

Revealing itself and all its promise as it will.

Each is entirely precious and unique.

Each will linger in the mind.

Each will teach us what it is to love.

To be torn, to nurture, and let go.

Not every garden blooms as we expected.

Despite our care, not every child can thrive.

Tears take the place of rain, and the sunshine fails us.

But the buds, however delicate, were perfect.

They were real, and their fleeting scent will live forever on the air.