By Rebecca Brown
Verses, full of the obvious.
made from the inner core, of an outer mind set.
Standing strong, on a blended stem.
White petals, folded gently together.
Closed, in a semblance of peace.
A simple illusion of bursting newness,
longing to open and receive,
the warmth of the sun.
The revelations of possibility,
flow like neon bravery,
through the roots of the garden circle.
Lighting the way.
To stop, would mean the demise of faith.
Flowers, taken for granted by subconscious choice.
Fearing to bloom fully,
lest the white petals fall like tears.
from the blended stem.
Take time to smell the flowers.
Maybe hold them tightly,
with an equality of understanding.
Touching each and every one,
with the comfort and love,
that is their destined role...
on this ride.