11
Apr 14

Knows Not the Rose

Knows Not the Rose

My son, you know not the rose.

I shall paint for you gardens, and close-ups of buds

I shall draw for you dewdrops on leaves

and ladybugs

and aphids

I shall brush rich fabrics against your cheek

soft and velvety like a rose petal

I shall bathe you in fragrance of musk and springtime

that the sense of rose may fill your head

You will walk with me and we will cut a bud for our vase

A thorn prick will remind us that we have not yet learned

all there is to know about roses

 

One night, you will dream

You will be the bud

the thorn

the thirsty roots

You will taste the dew on your leaves

and absorb the sun through your open flowers

You will feel the rose in your blood

and taste it on your breath

 

And you will finally know what has been true all along

You are the rose.

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