Ode to a Dozen Daffodils

Ode to a dozen daffodils
that lay dying on a
sun dappled lawn

Overpowered by shadows
of orchids, blood-red
in the light of a waning dawn.

Their time come too soon.

The iris rose up to bloom
controlled by a primeval
power too true to turn back.

Truth too blooms as a flower,
too harsh a reality to control.
The power of living is that
dying comes
and the time between is where
the flowers bloom.