I—The Rising
I see it rising up against
the black, rising up as a
simple image in a landscape
of none, rising gently for all
who see the black and find
despair, rising and holding
its place as the white rose
of kindness and fragile hope.
II—The Giving
Let me give you a
white rose, and say
no words, offer no
wisdom for the ages,
just kiss your cheek
and with you holding
the bloom close to heart,
I will smile with regret
and move away again.
III—The Dying
The rose it droops,
the rose it dies,
the white rose it falls into
the black; without a sound,
without a tear, without a
promise of any more.
Who shall rise and plant
the seed, who shall be the one
to start its place, and see the rose
rise up against the black again?
18/11/2020