Thrive

a poem

They grow, hearty and vibrant,
as you wither and fade.

Naught but a skeleton
of your former self remains.

And that is just life’s way.

Seasons of plenty and want;
some peak as others wane.

It is their time to thrive, yes.
But this is not your end.

Rest does not mean death.
There is still time yet.

Rest.
Replenish.
Tend your roots.

You do not, now, here, die
but make ready to once again
flower, grow, and thrive.

Yes.

Thrive.

This poem was written for an Art & Poetry event, inspired by a painting. You can see photos from the event, including the inspiring artwork, on Elizabeth’s Instagram.

Elizabeth Joyce is an essayist, poet, and author. Her book, tumbling: poetic thoughts from an anxious mind, is available in paperback and e-book formats. Subscribe to Elizabeth’s quarterly newsletter and find out more at…