The Bramble and The Rose


Seek amongst the days,

like flowers through the thorns.

Never let the recompense

become the impetus for desire.

Know that even one spark

smites the bramble

and the rose.

The sweet smell

ends with sickened absence.

Adorn yourself with flowers.

The cuts on your hands

only make your face

more beautiful.

As it is

with all things from the land,

you too,

come to reflect it.

Eyes bright

and dark as earth,

shining in the fertile loam

and moss that carpets

the living, breathing

forest floor.

You know

that the fire is inevitable.

You might even

strike the spark yourself

when the time comes,

but you are still

rich with green leaves

and colors of all kinds.

Birds and small creatures

still seek you out

for your safety and nurture.

Beneath the canopy

of your countenance,

it is still evident

that vines and thistle

have their place,

but it is in balance.

Only there,

lest some greedy,

or unwary hand

stray too far from order.

In you,

of you,

by you;

do all things come.

To live,

and die,

and know true life.



HG – 2022

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