the depth feels what it is to
move. quiver upon quiver. as the rising warmth plays
'round the morning chill,
mingling to unconsciously bend the spine.
petal upon petal falls away
and flower and dew wade through this dance of new touch.
how the sweet beads of clear moisture curl, one into the next,
until the beginning and end cease to exist
to the senses. in a rose hued
reflection upon itself.
this sugar coating of
droplets sustains the moment in endless grasp,
as the once protected heart of bloom
learns what it is to taste.
to taste 'til time catches up to pull the center, to carry away,
into the tangled pile of aroma, tenderly schooling
the air in perfect scent.
petal upon petal of earth to grow
~ ' opening'
words i wrote a while ago... words which seemed to fit with the images of the textile roses i've been working on the last few days