Crisis is hard. Grief hurts. But I would much rather be a strong, tall sunflower, or an intricate and complex bonsai, each a masterpiece of beauty, than a poor, coddled sprout that dies young in the luxury of inadversity.

Over the last few weeks, I have had opportunity to reflect on both the ferocity and fragility of life.

In my closet, hanging there
Beneath the dust and disrepair
Is evidence I used to dare
To don these clothes I used to wear...