These flowers are growing again
in my head
and like a vine
they neither swoop nor swing–
they cling
to each side of my brain,
try to determine what type of learner I am
but either way, thoughts can’t be pushed
out of the way
so I’ll plan out another day to pluck and prune.
For now,
let me sit, lay down my head and rest
let nature have its way
before I run and play, amidst the gardens
outside these walls; in each season
they grow flowers, all their pinks and blacks
and greens– they look familiar to me.
In my mind I see a mirror,
one I can’t protest:
an image of you, an image of me
and sweet, pink, spring flowers,
scattered at my feet.
Each petal falls so slowly;
I do not stand in their way.
I watch in perfect silence;
I pray for peace today.
February 28, 2016