Facets Excerpt 1 by Victoria Addino

Outside my door a rose was left.
A decorative red pot, hand-painted golden leaves.
No note from whom it’s from.
Petals wilted barely none.
Leaves part green, so stiff, wrinkled tips so brown.
Its stem so weak, bent like a frown.
Soil so dry it flakes apart.
Roots so brittle, yearn a new start.
No water nor sun, such neglect malnourished.
This rose once vibrant, destined to perish.
Nurturing at once for a new beginning.
Revive its heart to keep it living.

Thought came simply a chosen place.
To ground its roots, sun in face.
Morning dew, soil rich, so new.
Royal land, hand of gold.
This rose here destined to grow old.

Windowsill close in view.
His royal colors his piercing thorns.
So quickly he’s become reborn.
Bees now hum, birds now sing.
Crowd this rose as he their king.