
These fuchsia flowers sit
as an offering; I snap
a picture, admire
the long and lovely blooms,
but I find myself drawn
to the imperfections;
nature has its flaws,
and I count those
as distinguishing traits,
just as the lines, folds,
and hollows we wear
through our ages, years
worked out on our faces
by each smile, laugh, and frown —
those nuanced reactions
sketch a life lived with passion
amid both tragedy and joy.
Each one of us is a living
work of art, created and curated
as a masterpiece by God,
beautiful from birth
until the frailty
of a body’s final end —
our glorious beginning
to an eternal
newness.

—C.L. Fisher, May 2020
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