They speak of cherry blossoms
And frangipani trees
Of crocuses and daisies
Narcissus on spring hills
They talk of Easter lilies
I see them on store shelves
And peonies aplenty
Among bold daffodils
Yes, springtime is approaching
Wrapped in a showy cloak
Yet there's a flower I yearn for
Whose source can not be named
It hides under a blanket
Of snow and winter frost
Not even spring's warm sunshine
Can coax it from its chill
Those few who found the secret
Of finding this rare bloom
Will gladly share the answer
But sadly few will care
It is the flower of spirit
With petals some call grace
They open with plain prayer
And cannot wilt or die
So many pick fair poppies
And kiss a blushing rose
Quite unaware of standing
On spirit's hidden dale
They speak of cherry blossoms
And frangipani trees
Of crocuses and daisies
Narcissus on spring hills.
The spirit will bloom eternal. The ending is the beginning, a fitting close!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Gorgeous, the flower of spirit, how lovely!