The New Green

 

spirea-leaves

Earth worships Green –

Bows beneath leafy canopies

To the fountain of youth,

Sings praises to virility and supple strength

In cathedrals fashioned by fads.

But after life killed her chlorophyll,

Her true beauty bloomed;

Wisdom and resilience have proven

Gold to be the new green.

 

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The Beauty in the Mess

ruffles macro

Within each crease, beneath each scar, and etched in every vein

Her petals form a tale alive with hope carved out of pain;

Though deeply marred, disfigured, torn, her beauty proves to me

The choice to bloom despite her wounds is what has set her free.

I read within imperfect folds a novel penned by grace,

For harshest hurts transformed, redeemed, become the very place

Where subtle hues and fragile scent, those glories forged by stress,

Release our truest, highest self – the beauty in the mess.

 

 

A Weather Forecast

raindrops

Those days will come –

and then they’ll go,

with notable precision;

The rain will fall,

the wind will blow,

destroy what you envision.

But soon the sky

will tire of tears,

her raindrops’ stores depleted;

the sun will glow

with cheer once more,

and gloom will be defeated.