Every year you appear as if by magic.
No one planted you, no one tends you.
Still, there you are, your star-shaped petals
Of saffron outlined in purest of snow
Reflecting the radiance of the sun itself,
While an explosion of spiky, hairy leaves
Sprouts from earth lending its encouragement.
So, too, some humans who never stray
Far from womb or hearth while others brave
New environments and untried experiences.
Bloom where you’re planted, or stray afar?
Both have their appeal, so long as you bloom
Wholeheartedly, for as long as you can,
Wherever you find yourself planted.
Note: These dainty perennial wildflowers are known as Yellow Star Grass, part of the Lily family, and are native to nearly every county in Illinois.
Musings by an ND Domer's Mom 
Lovely Debbie.
Thank you, John. I found the color cheerful and the shape pretty, too.
🙂
Oh, I love this. I’m always amazed by these beautiful “volunteers”… Yes, keep blooming!
Thanks, DD. Sometimes it seems as if the loveliest of sights are those which surprise us! This one only lasts a month or so. Sigh.
So beautifully expressed, Debbie! Truly my friend, you have SUCH a talent for writing! What a wonderful piece; I especially love the second paragraph analogy…
“So, too, some humans who never stray
Far from womb or hearth while others brave
New environments and untried experiences.”
Great photograph too! I don’t think I’ve ever seen these wildflowers before, but they’re beautiful!
Isn’t spring wonderful? The weather here has been absolutely gorgeous lately, so the flowers and trees are blossoming, making everything more beautiful!
Have a super week, my friend!
X
Ron, your beautiful compliment has got me blushing! Thank you, and I’m glad this post was pleasing.
You know, I’ve long been fascinated with the saying, ‘Bloom where you’re planted.’ I have friends who never left the town where we grew up — never seemed to want or need to — and I have friends who scattered far and wide — couldn’t seem to wait to get out. I imagine all of them, in their own particular way, found a slice of happiness. Maybe that’s because happiness is usually found within, rather than without, huh??
We’ve had a string of absolutely gorgeous days — mild, calm winds, lots of sunshine — and I’m finding it hard to stay indoors and work. I suspect we’ll be paying for them later in the week with a series of storms.
Happy week to you, too, my dear! xo
How beautiful. I’ve never seen them before, but isn’t nature amazing, to create such a star-shaped flower. Enjoyed the poem you wrote. Nice.
Ah, Monica, what a lovely thing to say! I’m glad you enjoyed this one. As usual, I took the picture, figuring I’d find some use for it; then the words started tumbling out. Odd how that works, huh?!
What beautiful little things! So cheerful. I do love the little surprises nature throws at us.
‘Tis a real shame these cheery little stars don’t hang around longer. But how cool is it that they spring up and don’t seem to need anything other than sunshine and rain??!
I just love that. I have primroses that do that in the randomest of places. It is just such a joy!
Ooh, I do love primroses — so many colors!! Your yard must be spectacular at this time of year!
It’s pretty rural and a bit wild but that’s what makes it so great! The tulips will be opening any day now – I have purple, red, pink and yellow!
Now I’m just pea-green with envy! I LOVE tulips, and I don’t have a single one!!
Oh that’s really nice. I think I’ll thieve it, the sudden.
Professor! *shocked face* Thieving again, sir? Didn’t you learn your lesson the last time?!?
Nah, I never learn my lessons, not even in school. Haha.
What a lovely poem, Debbie! Yes, indeed, it’s the blooming that counts not the where or the how… Thank you for brightening up my afternoon! 😀
How sweet of you to tell me that, FF — thank you! I’d seen these little stars before, but I never knew what they were, or anything about them. Glad I snapped their photo and, thanks to this Internet thingy, was able to make an ID.
God tends them!
How lovely, Debbie xx
Beautiful and so true, Kim — thanks for the reminder! Love you bunches!
Just this year, I’ve learned the word botanists and flower people use for these: “spring ephemerals.” The “ephemeral” refers to their short bloom time, of course. They’re very much an example of now you see them, now you don’t.
I looked them up on the USDA site, and found that they do grow here in Texas, too, though they aren’t shown right along the coast. We do have a blue-eyed grass, and I thought it might be related, but it’s in the iris family, and these beauties are in the lily family.
Whatever the scientific details, it’s beautiful, and your poem pairs with it wonderfully well. Thanks for sharing a bit of your spring with us!
Thanks for your words of praise, Linda — it truly gladdens my heart for the second time to hear them (the first, of course, being when I caught sight of these little stars!)
At first, I wondered if they might be a variety of crocus. They’re low to the ground, and I figured that, when closed, the flowers might share that shape. On closer inspection, they definitely weren’t crocus. I guess the thing they do share is a short life!
Debbie, you’ve done a fabulous job of creating a peaceful hum in my heart and offered a reminder of how beautiful life can be no matter where we are planted. Thank you. Well done!! I also enjoy how you reference the flower at the end for the reader.
Thank you for your words of praise, Audrey — it makes my heart sing to hear that something I wrote resonates with others!