Flowers
A Poem
Who do I thank for these flowers?
This gift I hold without fully grasping:
Life.
And all that comes with it.
I didn’t give it.
And I’m foolish to think
I could ever live it
while dismissing the Giver.
Who brought me here?
My mother?
What about the others —
all who came before me?
All whom I never knew
and all who never knew me.
The seed that birthed me
traversed earth and time.
Surviving the climb;
grabbing light despite the darkness.
I shouldn’t be.
But I am.
And that will always leave me in wonder.
That will always lead me
to breathless “thank you’s”
unworthy of air.
I stare
at the flowers that remain,
remembering that life is beautiful.
© Micah Josiah 2021
Writer’s Note: An ode to the gift of life and all the women in my lineage who held on so I could be.
