All keys shall now be named
Beauty unfolding is the answer.
In every moment, a small change
spiraling out slowly
like a rose blooming
in orbit romance with the sun
One hundred years we could sweeten
and shine in the Summer
Or one hundred years we could let
the urgency of death bend our spines
and paint our petals with shadows
as we become what we behold.
The magic of sunrise is suspended
inside each tight new bud
the warm glow of love
exploding in secret gardens
charmed with cultivated innocence
nymphs march forth in Spring
fencing pricks at the king
stronger every season
through the impact of pests and floods
and damn-near-dead neglect,
until they have stems like stone pillars
that refuse to sustain any caliber of parasite,
until the branches have grown so abundant
they happily absorb heavy flooding.
It doesn't drought around me.
I flourish in defiance of my disease.
As I have been freely given
by no one but Nature herself
I freely thrive to fulfill
what she expects of me,
to survive beautifully.