Song and Dance of the Flower

There's a song on the billowy breeze that seems just out of reach. A song so high and sweet, a breeze that tickles and teases our delight, but just out of reach. The wilting Daisy is hanging her head in shame and worn down by the beating of rain, just here and then, ever after gone.
The tulip is bright and dainty, yet strong and full in beauty. She is standing tall and proud, her face to the sky, but she is holding her own, in the wind and the storm, as she embraces the dance and swings in full gale! The shiny petals and delicate grace, of God's own choosing, are made by His own creative flair.
There is a sight to behold when two, made the same, yet not alike in kind, are mingled together, and live a different fate. One flower is growing in grace and an elegant sight, the other is hanging her wilted petals and dreadfully afraid.
A song is the song, that is lifted high in the breeze, that sings to a soulful cloud hanging low overhead. How can one be so tall and assured, while one is so woefully downtrodden and feeling left to fight? One longs, as the other, to be loved and adored, while dancing alone brings longing and such an empty flight.
Life is short and too often we forget, the dance is for us to give to the Lord. He created us for His purpose and His own special delight. How can we leave the whirling and studied dance, with the wind of our strength who sends our wings to flight? He alone is powerful and wonderful, too much to comprehend. Our everlasting Father, who gives perfect peace, to Him we must give all that we have, and take hold of His hand! He is the Rising Star, our Day Spring and Rose of Sharon. His beauty never fades or dies, He is, the Prince of peace!
Wilting flower rise up to the son! Allow the King of Glory, your maker, your song, to water and feed and bring you up to Himself. Give glory to Him, the GREAT I AM. He is our strength and our delight. He is the music that sends our feet to dancing. He is all that we need.
Still there she is, her song is unsung, her petals are falling, yet He gently gathers them all in His very own hands and holds them close to Himself. He is!