Flowering

By Katherine Gotthardt 

Stop. Stop and write the ending first,
the outcome of all that is significant:
      sunrise through the treeline,
      and that humble ribbon of spotlight 
      on the azalea you planted 
back when nothing lived on that lot
besides sand and sad memories.

Write how you want it all to turn out.
Not that you long to be sun itself
(everyone unreasonably wants that)
but how those tender petals will swell
      with boldness and color,
      thick with leaves and stems 
      and ideas of their own,
sentient in the truth 
that what you did mattered.

Read it again. 
Edit if you wish.
But do not delete the part about flowering.
Nothing grows on its own.

Katherine Gotthardt

Katherine Mercurio Gotthardt is an award-winning poet and author seeking meaning, peace and joy and hoping to share it where she can.
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