The Reaper and the flowers

I want to share a favorite poem of mine with you today. This is so beautiful and touching, and reminds me of my late mother…hope you enjoy…

There is a Reaper whose name is Death, 

And, with his sickle keen, 

He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, 

And the flowers that grow between. 

 

“Shall I have nought that is fair?” saith he; 

“Have nought but the bearded grain? 

Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, 

I will give them all back again.” 

 

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, 

He kissed their drooping leaves; 

It was for the Lord of Paradise 

He bound them in his sheaves. 

 

“My Lord has need of these flowerets gay,” 

The Reaper said, and smiled; 

“Dear tokens of the earth are they, 

Where he was once a child. 

 

 “They shall all bloom in fields of light, 

Transplanted by my care, 

And saints, upon their garments white, 

These sacred blossoms wear.” 

 

And the mother gave, in tears and pain, 

The flowers she most did love; 

She knew she should find them all again 

In the fields of light above. 

 

 

O, not in cruelty, not in wrath, 

The Reaper came that day; 

‘Twas an angel visited the green earth, 

And took the flowers away. 

 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A pearl of truth, a pearl of great price.

One of a handful of precious pearls of truth that I have learned on this life’s journey,

and that I carry,

is that I AM LOVED.

Loved by my creator.

He loved me first. He loved me from the beginning.

I was conceived and woven by the greatest of loves in my mothers womb, by the hands of the author of love.

So I have no doubt that he left something of himself in me, inside of each one of us;

the greatest love of all.

Like a painter that pours his vision and heart and soul upon his canvass,

or the musician that puts all his heart and strength into the song that he hears in his spirit,

or the writer and poet that pours out their heart and hopes and dreams onto a paper and inspires others with their words,

so we were made in the same manner,

  with the same care and attention to detail.

For what artist does not take the time to make every piece a masterpiece,

a work reflecting his vision, heart and soul?

Or what artist does not hope that his work is an inspiration to others?

Ahhh, so then it is we were meant to be.…

our spirits bearing witness, right now.

To know who we are,

and believe in the love that made us and gave us life,

is a precious gift,

and an effective tool and ally for us in this life,

and gives us a confidence to know we are always loved,

and able to love,

even in the most perilous of circumstances…..

for that is who we are,

and what we are made of. 

We are his beloved.

We cannot escape it.

We cannot change the fiber nor the fabric that has woven us together.

We cannot change it through circumstance

nor by our actions.

We cannot help but be that essence, that image in which we were created.

This brings me great comfort,

and sustains me with a mighty strength.

We are all living, breathing works of art, each of us unique,

but each of us the same,

fashioned by the same loving spirit,

the spirit of our father, our creator,

the master artist.

And we need look no further than ourselves to find it,

and receive courage to walk in it

and be it.

Face the sun

Keep your face to the sun and you will never see the shadows.
Helen Keller

 

image by 00AngelicDevil00