It slides in place
as effortless as dawn
The rising grace
each line so finely drawn
Each hue precise –
the subtle cast
of rose-infused delight
to render loveliness
to her sweet face.
Why should we be surprised?
Does not each life
unfold its perfect pattern through its days?
As hummingbirds that hatch
in nests with spider silk and down
and grow from awkward cuteness
into darting grace
Have not these flowers opened out and opened out?
Yes, but they, too, are miraculous
as much as they are ordained.
©Wendy Mulhern
August 1, 2011