An Awaiting Bud

by

Heather Nicole Luther

From the Master’s garden,
You were picked to make his beautiful bouquet.
But I was left behind,
Because I am only a bud still waiting to bloom.

Every flower has its petals,
Each one having a meaning.
Your petals held your short life,
As mine are still expanding.

There is a time,
When flowers die.
For its life may seem so long,
Even though, if in a dream, it’s merely just begun.

My time was spared,
As my petals still expand and my life continues.
I thought that I would die when you were picked to be part of our Master’s bouquet,
But life goes on, as mine still does, no matter how much heartache and pain there is.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at don't ask
by: Cajunchess
from: Broadstairs, England, UK

To visit all of Heather Nicole Luther's poems, click HERE

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