Flowers and God: My Divine Tapestry

 

In fields of gold, where light descends, 

A breath of heaven softly bends, 

To touch the petals, delicate & bright, 

A whispered divine hymn

In morning’s light!

 

O Flower, child of sacred turf, 

You are the fingerprints of God! 

Each hue He dipped in celestial dew, 

And brushed with love to bloom for you. 

 

The rose, aflame with crimson fire, 

Burning with the ardour of desire,

Not earthly love, but purer still, 

A testament to Heaven’s will. 

 

The lily, robed in spotless white, 

Stands chaste beneath the Lord’s own sight, 

A mirror of the soul made clean, 

Where grace and mercy intervene. 

 

The daisy, humble, small, yet free, 

Lifted up its face in ecstasy, 

As if to say, "Rejoice! Be Glad! 

The smallest things make God rejoice!"

 

And violets, in shadows deep, 

Where weary hearts might pause to weep, 

Are tokens of His tender care— 

That even sorrow finds Him there. 

 

The sunflower, tall & upright in golden dress, 

Turns ever toward His loveliness, 

A pilgrim swearing to seek the light, 

Though storms may darken half the night. 

 

Oh, who could walk this world below 

And miss the magic these blossoms show? 

That He who clothes the grass so fair 

Will crown His own with greater care! 

© Meghna, 2025, All rights reserved.