The Rose's Soul
Not every Rose's Thorn
draws blood;
some Loves prick the very soul;
yours did mine;
being more intimate
because of who I am
or was
is now
neither my self
nor thorned bloody rose
destined not to be
myself
without my once treasured
now revealed to be no longer
Individuality-
we sometimes learn
in our latter age
is much overrated.
Those who cling
to the isolated self
most often suffer the Rose's Thorn
ignoring
unaware of its flowered soul
smelling nothing
of its perfume;
it's gifts to be is granted,
it seems
only to those
willing to flow
welcoming
Commingled Being
not demanding
that love
not
change
our individuality
because surely
that is what Love's
Best
is intended to do
and most often does
even if not wanted
or recognized.
Love's History
for good or ill
is always
the same;
where ever you go
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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