SUMMER PRUNING

[Guest guest]

In my cloistered garden, blood red roses lie,

Bowed, surrendered to the spear of morning light;

Diamond drops of dew mirror a turquoise sky,

Blue forget-me-nots cradle the lilies white,

All's hushed in heart's deep haven bright.

A silence profound descends, the dawn of peace,

Simply 'just be still' is the soul's release.

 

A gradener comes to summer prune the blooms,

With tender care he cuts the sappy stem,

The lustrous Sun disperses earthly gloom,

Each radiant rose, glows like a ruby gem.

The gard of the Goddess is her bridal hem,

Each green leaf and fragrant summer rose

Breathes the beauty which one's True Nature knows.