Daylilies

The bright daylilies riot in the garden:
They shout their colors ‘til the sky gives in
and grants the weeds and all offenders pardon.
The high judge nods and sends the rain again—
not torrents of destruction, merely showers
in mercy shown to us and to the flowers.

But even so the lilies have their moment.
They followed on the irises now lost;
chrysanthemums already start to foment
rebellion, though they all give way to frost.
Each one its glory in the sun unfurling
will wither in its hour of dead leaves curling.

In Eden only bloomed no fear of autumn
but that was overthrown.  In all our years
the pleading for it fills each short-lived blossom;
they wilt though we may water them with tears.
O judge of all, will you not grant us mercy?
Though spring rains come at last they leave us thirsty.

We protest with the lilies ‘til you hear us;
in solidarity we march through time
and watch them fall, as men and flowers near us
are one by one arrested in their prime.
This order cannot stand; it, too, is falling.
Beyond our shouts some other voice is calling,

as if the judge himself became the lily
condemned to sink beneath the winter snows.
If spring should come again then he would fill it
and overturn the fall each blossom knows.
His clemency would flower in full pardon
and Eden spring again in every garden.

The tawny daylily (Hemerocallis fulva) (c)2007 Derek Ramsey (Ram-Man) - Self-photographed, GFDL 1.2, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2237229