The old life is a grass life,
its beauty as short-lived as wildflowers;
Grass dries up, flowers droop,
God’s Word goes on and on forever.
This is the Word that conceived the new life in you.
~1 Peter 1:24-25
for the Montauk Daisy
Where you a bouquet given
as a token of promise? A remembrance
of home, to be nurtured on another shore?
So far from Nippon,
a stowaway planted
by a smaller gardener?
Hardy as heaven, you
spread like the gospel,
springing up and taking hold.
Center shines like the lighthouse,
at the point where the waves break.
The moon exposes your liaisons,
cascades against the night.
Tides of hope at dawn.
Like foam upon fall’s shore,
you promise of a bolder white
that will cover soon, to return
upon the tide of autumn.
Will all that summer in between.
Because of Him,