Deck brittle with age, surrounded by color, a wall.
Satin petals: Red, Pink, Ivory, Maize.
Thorns a reminder: look, don’t touch.
Water droplets perfectly formed, wait to escape.
Bees busy, a harvest of nectar.
Woman sits, watches, filled with joy at the sight.
She labors with tender care.
Scarred by thorns, undaunted.
She plants, she feeds, she waters.
The full bloom of her effort,
a feast for eyes
Delicious to smell.
Sun’s path plunges
colors blaze then fade.
Not an end; pause, to rest.
In time she prepares for the deep white sleep of winter.
Well covered. Glory there still, but not.
She prepares the soil, a feast.
They awake from slumber, race to come out.
Canes the channel of life, carry lovely crowns through voyage to summer.
In full bloom they linger.
Celebrated, loved; a reminder,
In the begining God…
This is a small representation of the high-quality writings you’ll find in every issue of TIFERET.
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