Omer 15 - wild roses three

With open maw and wider eyes,

I gaze into kaleidoscopic array

of wild roses before me, within me.

Wild roses of magenta, white, and dusty lilac:

their own organisms and portends,

nothing and everyone resting on them —

past, present, future

in chronology and in convergence.

They wind and bind the grounds they cling to

just as I cling and pine for these lands.

Yet I am grounded on this sinking,

ever-shifting sand where I slide two steps

for each one I take.

So often, it’s just me and the coyotes,

the never settled birds and me.

I see nor hear no fox but for the small,

fading steps left behind.

Soon, all signs will shift and bury,

and the roses will swell into hips.

And I will have a choice to make.

———

Omer 14 — the 14 winged thing < previous || next > Omer 16 — New Moon Iyar

the start: Omer 1 — Pomegranate