When the body is calm,
but the senses ablaze,
we are compelled
to pick the beauty from its home.
To walk into the meadow
and see the plentitude of diversity
with shades of all sorts.
To single out
a particular beauty that stands beyond the others,
in one's perspective, extraordinary.
To extract the life,
detach the umbilical cord,
ending its chance of survival.
To give the piece of life to someone temporary who
will not stay,
will not guarantee,
will not fulfill.
To foreshadow the inevitable.
Leaving emptiness in the field.
Leaving emptiness in the heart.
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This Poems Story
I took a vacation to Crested Butte, Colorado, the summer after it had record amounts of snowfall. The fields and meadows were filled with an abundance of flowers, and as I hiked I picked out the prettiest of each flower. I held onto my bouquet and the longer I squeezed it, the more the flowers withered and lost their brightness. This inspired me to write "The Lily." I would like to thank my parents for giving me the courage to submit it and I dedicate it to them.