Wildflower Lament

Indian Paintbrush: "Let me go"

Swaying
in the Texas heat,
the lonesome wildflower laments,
“Let me go.”

The LORD reigneth; let the earth rejoice; let the multitude of isles be glad thereof. 
~Psalm 97:1

In her vivid red dress
She worships with a rain dance
And cries out to the
Storm God
So far away
Seated on His hard throne.

Clouds and darkness are round about Him: righteousness and judgment are the habitation of His throne. A fire goeth before Him, and He burneth up His enemies round about.
~Psalm 97:2-3 

Clouds and darkness are round about Him...

He hears.
He answers, in the way Storm Gods do:
He sends lightning, and white roses:
“Silence.”

His lighnings enlightened the world: the earth saw, and trembled. the hills melted like wax at the presence of the LORD, at the presence of the LORD of the whole earth.
Psalm 97:4-5

Gathering in silent prayer...

The others,
wildflowers, too,
gather together and join the soft song,
twirling in their beautiful gowns,
moved by the strong wind.

Zion heard, and was glad; and the daughters of Judah rejoiced because of thy judgments, O LORD.
~Psalm 97:8

If Christ shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed...

They pray without ceasing.
Huge congregations longing to be free.
They watch the live oak (liberty) rise up
so high
in whatever direction he wishes.

For thou, LORD, art high above all the earth: thou art exalted far above all gods.
~Psalm 97:8-9 

Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness...

Bluebonnet covers the fields
With her dreamy purple imagination,
Singing hymns with the Paintbrushes
That sweat great drops of red on the hillsides.
The worshiper’s weary petals float away on the wind.
Goldenrod joins her hands with them as they pray, to encourage them.

Ye that love the LORD, hate evil: He preserveth the souls of His saints; He delivereth them out of the hand of the wicked.
~Psalm 97:10 

The Storm God answers
With lightning and white roses.

Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart.
~Psalm 97:11 

Where two or three are gathered in My name...

Every spring
The Indian Paintbrush dances on the hills
With her beautiful friend,
Bluebonnet (imagination)
Praying to the Storm God,
And waiting for the rain.

Rejoice in the LORD, ye righteous; and give thanks at the remembrance of His holiness.
~Psalm 97:12 

This entry was posted in beauty, bluebonnets, faith, flowers, God, God's love, Goldenrod, Indian Paintbrushes, Judgment, King James Bible, Language of Flowers, perseverance, photography, Poetry, prayer, Psalms, reverence, Silence, Texas, wildflowers and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Wildflower Lament

  1. heather says:

    Rhonda, I ADORE Indian Paintbrush…it’s my favorite wildflower here in TX.
    Plus, I ADORE poetry, although I have to admit I’ve had a 3 year dry spell on writing…
    but with three little kids, it’s just hard to find time or energy.
    I enjoy reading yours almost always!

You look like you want to say something. Go right ahead.