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smell the roses
I became tired of tasting dreams I do not swallow
Not nourished by their hopes
nor quenched by their lavish orgasms into my womb of expectancy
My barren womb quaked to be awakened to my dreams
that were pending in my state of shelved sleep.
Will I awaken?
Will the dawn light the new day, with my newborn
swaddled in the cove of my burped day.
Satisfied with the aftertaste of my dreams
now the fiber of what I hold.
The substance of all I have hoped for- now in the arms of my embrace
evidence that time, patience and perseverance were never barren.
Here is my faith manifested, here now is my reason for being validated.
I taste life, I smell roses not fearing the prick of the thorn.
The thorn reminds me that I live I am alive.
The sweet perfume of the bloom gives me reason to go on.
On to love, live, laugh, and smell the roses.
