There atop the thorny bush there is a rose. One rose in late summer. One rose against the odds, against the sky, against the elements, against gravity itself, a thing of beauty, a point of vivid life against the backdrop of normalcy, the green, the standard vegetation and so am I. Let it be for me as it is for that rose and so it is. I have no complaint against the communion of my soul with this emblem of ascendancy. Let me be as I am, as it is, as it was meant to show me. Grow above the rest, everything else and bloom before the curtain, against the way things are and this for certain. Victory is mine. Triumph is a rose that has been given. ♥
Keys
Worthless shards of serrated metal, ground to keep valuables secure, like Tutankhamun’s tomb, liquor on the Titanic or cars from ever being stolen. There’s one for your heart. Unless you leave it open. ♥