Ruth Desjardins Flowers and thorns
A flower grew in the summer
Alone among the thorns,
Blossoming through sunny days,
Fearing every storm.
Tender petals threatened –
No shelter from the winds
That blew the thorns against her;
She suffered cruel stings.
Gently soothed by falling rain,
And when the storm was done,
The flower felt her strength return
And turned toward the sun.
Again she felt the gentle breeze;
She touched the smiling sun;
Forgetting that the thorns were there,
She blossomed in the sun.
And then another flower bold
Appeared among the thorns –
Suffered all the agony,
Weathered all the storms.
Alone he stood among the thorns
And heard her gentle words;
She understood his joy and pain –
It was so much like hers.
So many things to talk about.
Forgotten was the pain.
Even though the stinging thorns
Were never far away.
Enjoying sunlit afternoons
And breezes soft and warm
Finding so much joy in life
Together ‘mid the thorns
But when the angry winds began
They couldn’t help each other,
For every flower stands alone
Throughout the stormy weather.
Once again alone he stood
Against the cruel pain
Again she felt the stinging thorns
Then healed in the rain.
And now the sun is shining;
The flowers can be friends,
As independent, strong, and free –
They plant their roots again.
As strength returns in healing rays
For now the pain is done;
They stand alone – yet not alone
Beneath the summer sun.
Ruth Desjardins
May 1979
