FLOWERS OF THE FIELD

We are little flowers of the Lord
growing down close to the earth,
His Holy Hand reached down one day
new life planted to give birth.

Some grew in sheltered places
untouched by wind, uncrushed by foot,
in pots protected from life’s storms
from dust and raining soot.

They know not of the harsh winds
of the torrent or the flood,
they’re never pounded to the ground
with their beauty in the mud.

The little flowers of the field
kissed by sun, caressed by wind,
made strong by living in His Grace
sturdy in their root and stem.

They delighted once a special child
who picked a sweet bouquet,
and gave it to His mother
whom He loved a perfect way.

In fear one day they trembled
where they grew along the way,
of this same child grown and suffering
for the sins of man to pay.

How they longed to ease His pain
with their beauty and perfume,
but were fastened tightly to the earth
silenced by their fear and gloom.

If they could only gather
at the cross upon the hill,
perfumed cups to catch his precious blood
hearts and souls to drink their fill.

The one thing we can do for Him
be the best that we can be,
give all our beauty and perfume
bloom just for Him eternally.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Apr. 28,1995