Return to the Earth

These tulips
in the glass vase
on the morning table
have faded;
petals crisp
at the edges,
leaves yellow
and wilting.

Still,
I love them.
Their long necks
proud,
determined
to be seen
for who they are
until they return
to the earth,

broken
into the soil,
food of the worms
like all of us,
the body gone.

These souls
will sleep
in the rich soil.
The spirit hidden
in a simple, round bulb.

The promise of fleeting pleasure
rewritten again and again.