(I first saw the mountain jonquil described in the book “Francis, the Journey and the Dream” by Fr. Murray Bodo, OFM. Fr. Bodo wrote that St. Francis was once gazing at the breathtaking panorama of Assisi and the valley of Spoleto when he looked down and saw a tiny mountain jonquil. St. Francis all at once forgot the majesty of the mountains and the valleys and concentrated on the tiny flower which looked so delicate and trembling in the mountain wind, with its life so brief and vulnerable, but glorifying God by simply being what it was. Then I thought, “I am like the tiny mountain jonquil. Frail, delicate, with life that could be snuffed out in an instant. I cannot claim to be more than what I am. Maybe, knowing and accepting yourself deep down is the basic relationship of a creature to its Creator.” This tiny mountain jonquil inspired me to write this prose.
“The Mountain Jonquil”
(by Teresita Carigma Palos)
The mountain jonquil
Celebrating the dance of life aloft,
Bestowing kisses on the sky.
Resplendent is the tapestry surrounding it,
Of varying forms and hues.
Whilst that tiny flower,
ever so tiny, so simple,
in the midst of more conspicuous beauties.
There it stands proud and vain,
Glorifying the awesome majesty of its Maker,
Witnessing to His nonpareil creativity.
With gaze probing beyond the infinite horizon.
Its minute stature
Effervescent with sunshine and laughter,
Mindless of its trembling and delicate existence.
Preoccupied in just simply being,
And by so being, fulfilling its destiny.