Honeysuckle

A Poem by Bud

Traveling this path I have many flowers
To remind me of the landscapes I have explored.
Many have withered and dried leaving only a memory,
But a memory is more beautiful than a thousand flowers.

In my hands I hold a love that is more powerful
Than all of humanity can possibly imagine it to be.
I hold a power that runs through me with the strength
Of an electrical thunderbolt bolting through the skies.

Yet, I reach out to pluck another flower from the roadside.
It isn’t a beautiful Rose as one might expect it to be.
But a simple Honeysuckle baring a sweet nectar
That removes the bitter taste left upon my tongue.

A bitterness left by the thorns bared by so many.
Again, I find renewal in my faith for love, life, humanity.
Yes, I hold a power that reforms lives into wonders
Breaking all barriers of sadness; loathing; hate.

For if in the jungles of life, amidst the tangled vines
I can find a sweetness that prevails all pricking caused
By the many thorns, then surely I can find forgiveness
In my heart for all the flowers that have withered and dried?

With that being a truth, I have found memories
Serve me best along my travels; journey.
For in my memories I can choose to avoid
Any thorns that may prick my skin bringing blood.