I planted a flower in the earth.
Later, I planted another.
Now I have a whole family of flowers–
children, father, and mother.
The flowers must be watered and fed
as they grow in this rough, dry land.
I go from flower to flower
doing all that I can.
As one flower starts to wilt
in the dry heat of the day,
I race to bring it water
from my home miles away.
Meanwhile, another of my flowers
on the other side of town
has also run out of water
and is rapidly going down.
I water my beloved flowers
as I run from place to place,
but I sometimes wonder how
long I can keep up this pace.
What will happen to my flowers
if I tire out or die?
Will someone bring them water?
or will they also die?
If only they could pull up their roots
and jump into pots with wheels!
They could roll down to a river
or a sea or a deep well, and there
they could visit each other,
share their water, and grow strong!
Then I’d know that they’ll be fine
even long after I am gone.
But I don’t know how to put them in pots.
I don’t know how to get them to move.
I wish I did because every now and then
I get thirsty too.
Linda Linton as a pastor’s wife, IT manager, mother, and grandmother, often turns to poetry as a way to express thoughts and feelings that have no other outlet. Linda works at Domtar Personal Care in Greenville, NC, and is in her first year at the University of Mount Olive in Washington pursuing a Bachelor of Science degree in Leadership.