Poem: Lillypads and the Meaning of Life

Lillypads and the Meaning of Life

A year ago thieves came late in the night,
and stole every bloom they saw,
every pink blossom and green pad
from the corner of the pond,

stealing their lush summer beauty
for their own, as if
somehow the act of possession
made it theirs, and yet

now, a season later, you stand here
and gaze over the pond
at the new growth that flourishes,
bright beauty waving in the afternoon winds

as if laughing at those who seek to possess
nature, alive and beautiful
in this place of wild carp and otters,
rising from the bottom of the pond,

from the source of life itself,
out of the muck of centuries
giving back beauty, an act of love
by a God who loves, an act

we too often miss in a life too full
of acquisition, action and illusions.

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The picture was taken today, in Pawlet, VT. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom