Love..sprouting like a seed planted in the fresh moist earth,
Unsure of the world around it, drawn towards the sunlight.
Reaching deep within with roots, leaf upon leaf unfurl,
Growing, growing and growing in the showers of desire.
Blooming with fragrant deep red petals like soft velvet,
Blossoming in the neverending, eternal, etheral Springtime,
Yearning every second, every minute, every hour, every day,
Longing to be known, acknowledged, realized and alive.
But what’s this? There’s something new and undiscovered
Sharp, dry, prickly, they can cut and draw blood outside.
Thorns… yes thorns of Ego, hidden among the red buds.
Hurtful thorns…with the passing moments, they too thrive.
Unrestrained, they grow faster, weaving a net of bramble,
Piercing through all, even the petals, not heeding to their cries.
Till all that’s left is a woody, dry underbrush that’s dead
With buried memories of a love that was lost…and happy times.
wordsofhope 