Ottawa Workshop - Piece # 4

- Sylvie Richard

Who in Heaven conducted the planets to sing through the plants? And who is the painter that can make a delicate pink petal wither into the deep violet cloak of Father Time. Who is the architect that has given the structure of stillness and yet the spinning movement that dazzle the eye when looking into the heart of the purple Echinacea? And are they all the same- so perfectly tuned? Or do they carry their own tune? While they are strong, almost stiff in the center yet so clearly ringing.

I still remember the first time I discovered the perfect geometry of flowers. I was baffled and also ashamed. Yes, ashamed that my human eye had not taken the time to perceive such high art, such mystic beauty.

I was too busy fretting, wasted, fallen, wrongly focused on the part of life that scorches. Yes indeed, the sun can burn us badly but-

But a simple A opens to “Ahnen”:

prophetic feeling-
a healing really, a balm:
Echinacea balm
Buried deep, protecting us
At the crux.