I came to see you today, but you had long since begun your journey to the ground, and you were dry and wilted.
And while my heart sank in morning for our never having communed during your season of bloom, you nurtured my weeping soul, and you reminded me that even a dying flower is a sight to behold.
So there we tarried, and there I beheld your marvellous death, and your vivid reds and golds shimmering in the light of the noon-day sun.
Late I came to the harvest, but great was that which thou hath delivered into my storehouse.
Please confirm that you’re ok with this.