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endlessquestionAlexey Terenin – 
Resting Angel, oil on canvas

A torn open heart is a brutal blessing. The torn part brings grief that calls us to greater wisdom and compassion. And, the open part grows ever more wide, a gift to ourselves and those around us. 

~ Robin Korth


To brighten the ashen December overcast
I buy myself thirteen yellow roses.
Within a week, the mature ones blossom.
When their large rose hips wilt
and fall, I toss them –

all but the duo
who clasp their petals together.
I trim the pair of survivors,
set them to dry in a waterless vase.
I name them after the two brothers
we lost a few months ago.
On the last day of the year,
our children and grandchild fly off
from their holiday visit, leaving us
a pair of fuchsia orchids
to color our winter.
Before sunset,
I carry the dried rosebuds
out to the back deck
which overlooks the forest.
I peel off the petals,
release them over the edge.
A breeze sends a yellow flurry
cascading back to nature.
I applaud.In my hand, a few moist petals
cling to the center of each stem,
as if to say, We are still alive.
I let them go.

Today I cast my eyes to the orchids.
It’s the new New Year.