Over in Glory Land

 

 Today, the Siberian Irises opened in the garden. I want to invite the world to come for a stroll, admire their beauty, study the details of the blooms, touch them, wonder at the complexity of design and color.  Walk past them and admire their random groupings near the back of the perennial wall. Sit and enjoy their company. Admire and appreciate one more time. And then smile and say “good-bye.”

Like anything of beauty that is short-lived, we cherish those fleeting moments where we immersed ourselves into the sheer abandonment of ourselves, transporting our souls to somewhere that is just out of our reach, longing to capture that moment, that short life of inspiration.

It could be a sunrise or a sunset, each so very different—never two alike. It could be the movement of a falling star—the spit-second awe and reward for having been looking at just the right time. It could be the Irises that I fully expect to surprise me every spring with their stunning arrival—understanding their visit to my garden will be a short one.

             But I will never understand the shortness of a child’s life.

                      This little human with all her God-given potential,

                                      just waiting to burst forth and bloom.

                            This little potential swimmer whose innocence

                        was violated by the overwhelming force of nature.  

                                  The life-giving, refreshing water

                                             that swept away this precious life.

                   Although I know not this child

                            that has been on my heart these last few days…

             Although I know not these parents

          who are reeling in the shock and horror of this life

                              event that has changed their axis of the earth…

            Although I know so little about so much

                         and wonder about this fragile life we all live…

                                                                                   I do know this…

Today, I will pause as the sun sets and sends long fingers of rays down the garden wall. I will pull the wicker chairs off the porch and just sit and soak in the beauty of the shortness of life in my garden. I will savor this moment in time that I have been given. I will use this time to watch for sunsets, and new blooms, and falling stars— all the fleeting moments that transport me to that place of hope.

That place, like the name of the iris in my garden, is just “Over in Glory Land.”