My husband announced he’s a peony.
He no longer feels like himself
as his petals open more and more.
Ever more layers appear.
Just about the time he thinks
he’ll see the pattern of his center
more petals appear.
His flower gets bigger,
the layers more dense.
I think he’s red but then I wonder
if there is a red peony.
So I check.
Find a red hybrid called ‘blaze.’
Perfect. It’s bright like his once red hair,
Like his soul in love but blaze’s petals
aren’t dense enough
for how he feels.
I know what he means
I’m blooming too
opening the petals of myself
to this man who is my husband.
This is new, being un-afraid to
say what I think,
to be who I am.
Even when our petals should fall to the ground,
we keep blooming.
We grow from roots planted in the dark,
rich and fertile brown soil
deep inside Mother Earth.
The yellow stamens at our centers
are the light from our suns
and our petals the gift of our
Janice DeRuiter Eskridge © 2014