Nature’s Pomp (On Turning Fifty)
Go ahead, flaunt your glory.
You’ve earned the moment, after all
So many months of fallow,
Empty bough and pallid hue
Aren’t who you are
So throw off all constraint –
You were meant to be brazen.
The long sleep is over; freedom grins
And crooks its finger, “Come on!”
Creation yearns to celebrate
So let your cloistered bounty bloom –
This is what you were made for.
Your Divine purpose beckons
Its splendor is unveiled
Like spring in all her glory,
It’s your season to rejoice –
After all, it’s who you are!
G.F. Cantrell