Raise your eyes, little one.
Own no shame
for what your world has done –
battered and bruised,
torn, shattered, forsaken,
you hold within your bosom
the ultimate treasure.
Let go, little one.
Let the seeds borne through
heat and drought,
flood and famine,
drop
one
by
one.
Your beauty has faded,
but your heart will live on.
The seed planted in you
has been multiplied
like loaves and fishes;
your sacrifice
has purchased
increase.
So
raise your eyes to heaven,
where your seeds
will settle like dew
as angels reap
what you have sown.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
Exceptional.
Thanks Rob. Appreciate that…
Very nice!!!
Grazie!
Beautiful…
Thank you Rosy!
Mmm, I especially like the last thought, Melody–“angels reap what you have sown”. Very nice!
Thank you, Caddo. 🙂
Ah ComOn! That is one dead flower, the Bud has been beat. Its only choice is a seedy statement to the next generation. “This Bud IS For You.” Hey! didn’t some cool dude do this 2000 years ago? Still getting rave reviews from what I hear.”
*giggle* Rave reviews indeed! 🙂
a beautiful poem
Thank you, Shimon! I am honoured by your visit.