A rose in bloom

 it draws,

 then reflects light

Given a long stemmed red rose Sunday I placed it in a vase on the stove. Each morning when I pour a cup of coffee my friend the rose greets me. So thirsty when first placed in water, one petal that drooped returned to hug the bud.

Throughout each day I have watched how the rose changes. Yesterday morning it was beginning to open and did so fully by evening. Glancing now at the rose which is rich and full, I am reminded of how fleeting and precious life is.

In my youth there was no time, or so I thought, to relax, open and be. Then I read Barry Stevens’ Don’t Push the River and others. Living in the present happened as flashes of light like a frog jumping from one lily pad to the next. Each landing brought a glimmer, another realization.

Only now do I savor each moment, each breath, all the joy, all the challenges and the mystery unfolding before me like the rose.