Can't do too much of a set-up with this one without giving away a spoiler for Sacred Secrets, but I loved this poem.
Like petals on the rose
Clinging tenaciously
To the flower of reality
Only to wilt and break free
In the winter of disillusion
Though plucked early
For the marriage rite
And showered for hopes and dreams
Scattered like frail droplets
Looking to be found in cracks
The wind of lies would blow
Dispersed over a thousand lands
Hiding in the darkest of reaches
Until a lone traveler
Stumbles into the pit
Crawling out of the thorns
With beauty for all to see
Charles W. Prather, Jr.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author ~ ~ ~ writing and streams of consciousness
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