Inflorescence

This language is older than our kind

It speaks of truth,

That won’t be learnt by a heart that is blind

In the winter of our youth…

 

No river and lace can stop it

Once it’s revealed…

Surfacing bit with bit

All that was concealed.

 

I wish I knew when I’m ready

For love to bloom for me…

Or maybe it’s a garden there, already

With no windows for anyone to see…

 

But I will never believe

That I am doomed…

Even mites refuse to leave

A heart that has already bloomed…

 

Author's Note

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A beautiful poem dear Ana.
"I wish I knew when I’m ready
For love to bloom for me…
Or maybe it’s a garden there, already
With no windows for anyone to see…"
Love is the greatest mystery and greatest emotion we can feel. We can't find love. Love will find us. A perfect poem. Made old Johnnie think this morning.
Coyote

[Ana B.]

:) Thank dear old Johnnie that you stopped by in my realm :)

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoy your realm and you are welcome.