Where Do the Flowers Go?

They do not really die

They merely fall asleep

Beneath blue-blanket sky

And soil of umber keep

Gather your sorrows near

We cannot still the wheel

Of time as it doles out the year

In moment-pulsed quadrille

To everything on earth

There is a portioned hour

A season of new birth

From bud to lovely flower

A season to let go

Relinquishing to sod

The petals of life’s ebb and flow

For we belong to God

© Janet Martin

A Time for Everything...Eccl. 3: 1-12

 There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

    a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,      

a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,     

a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,      

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,      

a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,     

 a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,      

a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace.

 What do workers gain from their toil?   

I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race.  

He has made everything beautiful in its time. 

He has also set eternity in the human heart; 

yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.  

I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live.