Pride in Love

The neighbors laugh up their sleeve
at our wildflowers, quick to wither.
Their tame delphiniums last longer,
survive dogs, children and envious hands
in plots spaded, sowed and weeded
and even watered in a dry season.

Our flowers grew untended
and bless us with their presence
as they bloom in the innocence
of the pure in heart.

We learn to endure our pride
in what is freely given even
a scanty crop on stony ground—
if that were all-knowing
this land is loved by none
but those vowed to live there.