Child glad of every growing thing, take flowers as my offering. (Recall when you were two and three you picked and brought bouquets to me?) In deeper seasons, let us turn to upward gardens -- stars that burn in galaxies of blossom far beyond our concepts of a star. No matter if existing growth be that of heaven or earth, or both: creation lies in all that's curled for bright unfolding -- bud or world, or sun from which each draws its power of life. We live by flame and flower. Child glad of every growing thing, love's at the heart of gifts we bring.