In Progress

The ferns succumb to winter

and lie down in rust-brown relief

from their hard work all summer.

The sea mist conquers,

then hesitates

and reluctantly dissipates.

Against Eowyn’s gale force,

the agapanthus held little chance

but held and stood in defiance.

I quivered in the cold,

in power-outage darkness

underneath quilts and blankets.

I don’t know what faith is,

but I think the flowers might.

Only a few weeks ago,

darkness had the definite edge.

And for several days

that felt like more,

surrounds were monochrome grey.

But not this day! Today

The sun and the deep blue sky

Conspired to revive

tartan hillsides in technicolor.

I live in the kingdom of God and,

distracted,

only rarely do I see it.