Picked carelessly from the hedge
a stem that stood up above the rest.
I twirled it round as I stood look-out for the yellow bus
that carries them by so I can blow a kiss and wave
Before the school day shadows them and says ,”behave.”
And as I waited, listening for some bird or wondering
At a sea gull – a sea-way gull we’ll say in Montreal,
I looked and saw the stem.
With tiny rain beads, each a gem.
Leaves placed two by two
But one pair facing east/west and the other north/south
And safe in the bracket of the leaves, the flowers
Budding, blooming, fading, dropping off
In perfect order as they take their place
Ascending on the stem in simple grace
Yes, perfect order
What we see as riot, chaos, random
spurts of growth,
variable, unpredictable, is perfect order.
There they were, waving from the bus
As I stood at the street corner
twirling the stem from the hedge.