No-Knocking In A Rose Garden

Thunder and lightning came in

the morning while in the

arms of her love.

When safe, only moment and minutes before.

Life before, sweet and deep

after being loved as

deep as the ocean caresses beach,

making 2 into 1 and 1 into 2

before falling into the arms

of safety in those arms–

held there by breadth and depth of love.

Thunder and lightning flashes come,

breaking the peace of twilight with

the battering ram of noon sun, taking

this rose for her garden, snatching bloom

and stem, leaving thorns while the garden burns.

White the thorns pierce…

While the fire burns.

While the thunder and lightning

leave and suddenly as it has come–

leaving love to try and save the

roses before the life in it fades.

Needing the rescue of rain,

Only to be embraced by

The rush or tears in the soil of what was.

But there are seeds,

There were seeds.

Where there was one rose lost,

there are more coming…

Yet, the rose planted, is still gone.

Lost, found and irreplaceable–

and ignored bu the weeds,

fed by the tears.

-JBHarris, June 2020

(*-For Breonna Taylor. We remember. We will never forget.)

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