better alone or in a bouquet?
Whatever would it have to say
if it's only programmed DNA?
Is a gladiola glad
to make us so instead of sad?
Does it rejoice itself in ways
that only God can see as praise?
And does St. Peterswort somehow
sail its prayers through heaven's gate,
while poor Job's tears, despite its bow
and pearly seedpods, has to wait?
Is there some fragrant mystery
in the hibiscus' history
that telegraphs by roundelay,
a secret God-communique?
Which aspect pleases Him the most--
the scent or shape or color?
Of pink or red that hawthorns boast,
do brighter beat out duller?
Can we with an arrangement make
a hymn more lovely than a mandrake?
Can landscaping or a flower show
worship as well as a tuckahoe?
Would bunches of mock bishop's weed
pray near a drooping devil's bit?
Would a scarlet cardinal flower bleed
if a devil's paintbrush painted it?
Doesn't the Jack in the pulpit preach
as powerful as human speech?
And don't Madonna's songs seem silly
next to a Madonna lily?
Do petals in a cruciform,
like colorful St. Andrew's cross,
raise up their arms throughout the storm
like Moses did to block the loss?
So why do flower prayers not have pull
like that of our prayers, sinners all,
and fade, for all their beauty full,
like freezing frostweed in the fall?
-- by Pete Voelz 1999
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