Fragile flower

It was a nodding-gunna-fall asleep spring day
when he first saw her.
A fragile flower
pale and weak
slightly crushed petals.
Her beauty was
not her condition
but what he saw
deeper
the quiet dignity
and grace
that had not been killed
by the feet that tramped her.
She had a defiant stance to her
crooked stalk
even though her face was hidden
and lowered to the earth
He wanted to go over and lay by her
smell her scent
and turn her delicate face to the sun
That's when he twisted and heard the mortar shell
whistle
he flung himself to the left
his rifle painfully crushing
his side and he rolled over it
Dazed he looked around
there had never been shelling in this field before
Here he had always
relaxed and let his guard down
The war had invaded his serenity
His training took over
But it didn't help
He stood and ran to the wall to jump it
but a landmine
tossed him off course
He struggled to regain his composure
checked for wounds
His ears still screaming
The dusty haze began to settle in spots
and though it all he saw her
the fragile flower
untouched
seemingly oblivious the the madness
about her
He smiled at her strength
her ability to live
day in and day out
amongst the chaos
He was falling in love with this little blossom
She gave him something
inside
something he couldn't describe
The planes did to quick strafing runs
across the field
there zigzag pattern
failed to find him
The nonsensical madness
of finding himself alone in this
battle made him call out
"I will protect you my dear!"
and he started towards her
The razor wire he didn't see
his skin felt it first
its anger slashes
halting his advances
Defeated he laid face down it the dirt
his bloodshot eyes weary
started to droop
that's when he saw the space under the wire
just big enough for his arm
he reached under and for her
he was just close enough to lay his open hand into her shadow
For a long time he laid there
hand extended to her
Sometimes the wind blew her away from him
her face turned away
sometimes she leaned closer
almost touching his hand
almost
The war raged on and on
He waited patiently
"I am not going anywhere" he would murmur in his sleep
"I am here for you"
That morning he felt moisture dripping
into his hand
dew forming on her was gathering into crystal tears and weeping into his hand
The wire was gone and the shelling had moved off over the next hill
but still he didn't move
The sun awoke the valley
and laid a warm blanket over
his aching body
He opened his eyes and caught a glimpse
of a magical sight
the fragile flower was looking at him
he smiled
Loving a fragile flower is hard indeed
The temptation was to grab her and sweep her up to safety
but instead he adjusted himself
and extended his other hand to her
She trembled in the breeze
seemingly thinking about
the hands near her
he waited
and before long she leaned into his embrace
He steady her but did not hold her
In this safety she blossomed
into a precious flower who's beauty
took his breath away.
thend

(c) 1-18-2006