Ready To Bloom

Ready To Bloom

As old as mankind is young.
Whispering winds carry to all shores.
Darkness unable to defeat it.
Many songs have been sung.
Existing during famines, depressions, wars.
The flame never extinguished, always lit.

Needed by the wicked and the holy.
Floating in the air we breathe.
Swimming in streams and lakes.
Shared by all, even the lowly.
Often unseen, surviving beneath
The chatter of societies fakes.

A glimmering rose in a desert sun.
A star breaking forth in a moonless sky.
The cradling of a new born baby.
Stored amongst friends in times of fun.
Felt at parting and goodbye.
Present during the betrothal of a leading lady.


Ancient Gods succumbed, calling
For more as they tumbled to their knees.
Clothed, armoured, or naked,
They gave in, laid down their arms, crawling
To the closest place to feel the breeze
Of the warmest glow, with no need to be persuaded.

There is something in the air.
Something in the water.
Something in our souls.
At the time of birth so fair.
Something in the clay of the master potter
That transcends time, that lies within each of our roles.

From the beginning it has not changed.
You might see it as a rose.
I might see it as being steadfast.
But it’s core remains unchanged.
It has life, it knows.
Ready to bloom, if simply asked.