Rose Garden

The world is a rose garden
full of hues of fuchsia and coral,
of cream and ruby,
and we can do nothing but
stand in the midst of it,
letting it wrap us in its
painter’s palette
and confuse our senses.

A gust of magenta and emerald scent–
that sweet, earthy aroma–
breezes by
and we breathe in deep,
letting that petal-and-leaf air
color our lungs,
so that we may be
vibrant, too.

That wind whooshes
in sounds of
scarlet and sage and pearl,
its voice
loud and piercing and haunting,
lush and rich and deep,
light and tinkling and mellow,
calling us to stoop
and pluck one of the flowers
to gain a closer look.

We reach and grab one
and hold it near to us,
knowing that the stem
tastes of green bitterness,
of growth and newness and vitality
and of loam and apathy.

We know what the thorns feel like, too,
but just to test,
we press one firmly against our skin,
feel the crimson spilling from our wound,
and smile.


Photo by Adrianna Calvo from Pexels

This poem was inspired by/written for the theme of colors and senses for this weeks Thursday Poetry Competition at Penable! Go check out that blog for this and future competitions!

Today, I offer you an invitation to breathe and feel and experience life. Look for the vibrant flowers, but acknowledge the thorns as well. This poem and animation by Morgan Harper Nichols called “I don’t feel fearless right now” helped me to do just that. And, if you ever need to chat about life, the good and the bad, just know that my comments, contact page, and Instagram DMs are open.

Want to follow The Yellow Brick Ave?