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.



I like the different ways you're using the word "fall."
😮 Just amazing. So, so good!