these roses

He in his madness

prays for storms

and dreams that storms

will bring him peace.

~Tolstoy

what is this remembrance?

inquiry for today~ how do you just smell the roses anyway?

those sweet blues

You don’t want to hear the story
of my life, and anyway
I don’t want to tell it, I want to listen
to the enormous waterfalls of the sun.

And anyway it’s the same old story –
a few people just trying,
one way or another,
to survive.

Mostly, I want to be kind.
And nobody, of course, is kind,
or mean,
for a simple reason.

And nobody gets out of it, having to
swim through the fires to stay in
this world.

~Mary Oliver

One thought on “these roses

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