Sun-dropped poppies gently smile towards the light.
Then calmly drink misty raindrops all throughout the night.
Orange hue yellow pedals and laced wild leaves
climb up the invisible ladder, then pause to breath.
Waving and winking when the wind blows from the south.
Sending along a butterfly who sips pollen from proboscis mouth.
What of the winter, where will it be?
What happens when the last leaf falls from the tree?
Hidden and warm, the poppy will rest.
Beneath the earth until, from seed to sprout, it will unnest.
A newborn will grow and spread its limbs and then,
this miracle new poppy will face the sun again.
Am I like the poppy, when trials and tribulations come?
When I rest in the Lord and wait for winter to be done.
The peace that He gives me even when darkness sets in.
Then awakens me with blessings when a new morning begins.
And even more like the poppy, when earth's end comes my way.
The seed and soul that is left will rise from the dirt, then to heaven it will stay.
A new body, like a flower, will be flawless and good.
And Jesus' face will shine upon me, just like the sun on a poppy would.