Land of the Three Wild Crocuses 2009

We all feel sometimes like giants,
Going back to one of my memories,
A life time of many drawn back years,
To when a mortal would be small,

That dream one would write down,
Personal adventures to share and read back,
I who was a miniature human in a world of giants,
My obstacles around me huge,
That fantasy land where one would search for others,
Do you believe me?

And when other giants and their giant dogs,
Explore the parklands and with clumsy intentions,
The awakening blossoms of the wild crocuses trembled in concern,

If they only knew the land of the littlest beings,
Lay beneath their clumsy treading,
I took shelter in that comforting cocoon,
Soft purplish petals with their orangey-yellow stamens,
In appearance a shroud of warmth protecting me from all harm,

We shiver as the artic winds dig deeper into our bodies,
Indiscriminately others would shiver merely to know,
But I remain warm in my subtle armature of expressive colour,
I had to leave my greatest discovery that day,
Knowing I would come back to sit,

I would move back into another world,
Uncertain if I was now a giant but knowing more,
It drew me nearer and I painted and almost worshipped,
These treasures of very early spring,

Please don't tread on them I would wish,
They stood ready for the praise,
The others never even noticed the beauty below their feet,
Some others I've seen with a cruel swipe,
The wildflowers preview destroyed in an instant,
Their Spring arrival shortened and lost forever,

I wonder if they knew to leave beauty for others to enjoy,
The giants amongst us all compared to those crocuses,
Our lifes are precious too,
I dread the damage of not seeing them anymore,
The prelude that something larger than us may have destroyed them,
And in relation to us that our lifes soon may be irrelevant.