Wildflowers

The sun is painting the field this morning
The birds told me it is true
And the buzzing bees have confirmed

She has splattered her colors about
Like a child finger-painting a page
Reds and oranges from her soul
And splashes of purple and blue
from her lover the moon
to remind us that the light always needs the dark

Today I should work for my bread
But all hope is lost for that cause
I must go to the field
and offer my quiet congratulations
Anything less would be rude

You may come with me
if you wish
But be silent
God cannot hear you when you speak




Erin Cowart's picture

ABOUT THE POET ~
I am a new poet and consider myself an ordinary person who sees the world in extraordinary ways. My poetry strives to make sense of the senseless and cruel in the world and point out some of the failings of society. I love to write about social, political and environmental issues and try to shine a light on the dark places that most people try to ignore.


Last updated September 05, 2022