Every morning I walk through a field in my neighborhood to cross to another street. I watch the seasons change in an old Japanese magnolia tree. I’ve photographed it many times. It seems to pose for me.
This is a time to think about gratitude. We have to look closely, closer than ever before. Pandemic on the rise can blur the lines of our lives. Take a minute to praise this flower, the morning, or whatever this photo brings forth for you.
Dewdrop tear,
Margaret Simon, draft
how do you balance
when gravity
pulls you down?
Share your small poem in the comments. Please leave encouraging comments for other writers.
Reflections on the Teche 
That is a stunning photo, poem and question.
Magnolia dear,
hold for a moment?
I lift my face
to this mist
that cleanses
youso delicately.
I can’t help
but to try
all your beauty
tips.
Thank you
for sharing.
Beauty tips! Yes. The lesson of just being yourself.
Linda, “mist that cleanses” and “beauty tips” are clever. I love the voice-how you talk to the magnolia.
I really appreciate the way you speak to the flower and I love the enjambment in the lines “but to try/ all your beauty/ tips” It really caught my attention.
Thank you for the beautiful photo, Margaret!
With Thanks
Like the bud,
I hold secrets
of the heart.
As each petal unfurls,
let me sing with thanks
for family
for faith
for hope
for love.
You take the image of the petal unfurling to explore your gratitude. Thanks for responding today in such a meaningful way.
Beautiful, Rose. It’s like a prayer or song. I especially love “like the bud, I hold secrets.”
Beauty lies in
this moment
as I embrace
exactly where
I’m meant to be.
As I slowly open up,
may it bring beauty
to those around me
and brighten
their dark days.
Thanks for joining today. I love how the photo led you to reflect on how you can bring beauty to those around you by embracing where you are.
Tynealewis, I’m not sure what your name is. Is it your voice in the poem or the magnolia’s voice? Either way, it is refreshing and beautiful. I love your whole poem. You have brightened my day. Thank you
This poem allows me to join nature and become, momentarily, one with the blossom.
Margaret, both your photo and poem question are beautiful and inviting. Your photo brought memories and happiness to me. Thank you for sharing. I could probably write 4 or 5 poems on this amazing photo.
Magnolia
open pink petals
inhale sweet scent
worry withers
Gail Aldous
“worry withers” – I appreciate the way stopping to be with the flower, to breathe it in, leads to peace
Amanda, thank you.
Amanda, thank you. I love to stick my nose in my neighbor’s magnolia blossoms.
I feel the same way, the worry withers. I wish I could have post the scent as well. Magnolias are known for their perfume.
Thank you, Margaret. I thought about writing perfume instead of sweet scent, but I had to include sweet & it sounded better with scent. I adore magnolia’s perfume. I wish I had my own tree, but they’re difficult to grow here above Albany, NY so I just stick my nose in my neighbor’s blossoms.
Amanda, I love the contrast of colors. Your contrast and simplicity make the pink petals stand out more and make your poem more beautiful!
Margaret, your poem is beautiful. I keep trying to tell you what I like about it, and I keep failing. I just… it’s beautiful. That’s it.
Because this Japanese magnolia is living in Louisiana, I thought a lune – the American version of the Japanese haiku – might be appropriate. The syllable count for a lune is 3-5-3 (for some reason that has to do with the length of words in both languages, I think).
November.
Gray sky. Bare branches.
Pink petals.
I love the simplicity of the lune and your list that does nothing but appreciate the beauty. Thanks for writing.
Amanda, I commented on your poem, but it’s in the wrong spot.
[…] challenged writers to think about gratitude with the beautiful photo of the magnolia blossom on her blog. Over at the Sharing Our Stories community, gratitude was also the theme of the invitation to write. […]
[…] pass a Japanese Magnolia tree. I’ve photographed this tree often, and written poems about it here and here. On a foggy grey morning, the dew drops glistened as I passed. I was compelled once again […]