Talk of the Heart – A Bouquet of Flowers

At dawn my two little ones said to me:
“Today is Papa's day—shall we not carry flowers to his grave?”

With the years, your memory renews itself in the mind—
tender... pure of breath.
You pass by with the confident step and the open youth:
a gesture of charm, a gesture of gallantry, and a gesture of love!
At your hands I learned to prize values, and to work for them alone.
And when you were gone, your spirit kept me company:
lulling my disappointment, so that I do not despair,
breathing hope into me, so that goodness does not wane in my heart!

And you stayed with me as I crossed the desert of life:
wiping the weariness from my brow
and breathing courage and faith into me.

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With your great love I found strength to walk on
and I grasped the great secret:
“that love is a giving content with little,
that by its spirit it lives, and by its matter it dies,
and that man is selfish so long as he does not comprehend this.”

•

With the years, your memory renews itself
and longing clamors within me: an aching companion... and chokings of grief.
How could it ever carry my sorrow to you—
a bouquet of flowers... mute?!