~ THE LIGHT AMONG THE ROSES ~

To press the glare, that is the blindness
Within the vision of the beholders
And with such gentle ambition
To find there's so much there
Beneath the plushness of the petals
Just waiting to be discovered...

Oh, this brave light, suspended in time
Does beg a grazing, from hands and minds
Wherein, there exists, three conditions
Those of life's beauty, its birth, its death
But Oh, what great rewards await
When, within this light we bathe....

By virtue of this science
The poet becomes the 'Namer'
And the poet names a thing
For having seen it
Then, miraculously,
When he chooses to don this light
He helps to reveal and truly feel
A cleansing affection from the temporal
Which makes a way clear
Link by link, and inch by inch,
To step barefoot into the fires
Of life's most gentle condition....

Where,
The light among the roses
Beckons,
To the soul of the poet
To shine,
Most gloriously.
To paint,
Most fervently
And,
To create,
Without limitation...