The daffodils bow their heads;
Perhaps to pray, perhaps to sleep, perhaps to die;
Their time for now coming to a coda;
Performance over for another year.
The birds sing their evening song,
The sun’s shape cannot be seen,
But still its light carries on
Enough to see, to write, to dream, to think, to ponder.
Our time here is nearly done,
Like the daffodils; just for a season.
We will return here in body, in mind, in spirit;
To this our sacred place.
Teach me to dream for a new season
And yet remain
In the contentment of this moment.
That I too like the Sun and the Son
May move with the seasons.
And like the daffodils may shout,
“God is amazing!”
Again and again and again.
Images Copyright Hannah Thompson
Words Copyright Caroline Middleton