In this world, we are flowers: all
praying to bloom –
Red when we're crushed down, closed in
against dew.
So I know it seems off to say “I
wouldn't mind dying
After living by you, rose.” But
you're that satisfying.
Beyond all muddy torrents, after all
wet critiques
That time wet my roots with (alone,
closed, and weak),
Now I find myself softening – warm
with light, exposed
All these veins, these soft layers,
these slight chills for you, Rose.
Beneath blooms, all our stalks are
thorned, shaded and hardened—
Just to preserve us for opening, for
begging life's pardon
By loving, and then nothing (for
there's nothing more right
Than to love: no word spoken, no fate,
no wise light).
We are beauty atop violence: not meant
to show the way;
Just to be, then to die: small and
natural, in this day.
To flower, is to give—oh, what you
share. I can't convey it:
No moan, sigh, nor whimper; no shout
nor roar, can say it.
In this life, all things right
feel like a pins: firm but faint,
Pricking quieter than wars, than all
glories that earn saint-hoods
From tall stalks and shut blooms, who
dream you with their words—
Because few have seen the heavens, but
“Haven't you heard?”
This poem about about a rose reminded me of a time when I struggled with feeling important in the world and how I was going to make my dreams come true. The speaker says we are “just to be, then to die: small and natural” and I felt the same exact way because I found it difficult to believe anyone could actually make an impact on the world when we are such a small fraction of it. While it is clear to me that this poem is about love, I was confused as to whether or not the speaker was speaking about an actual rose or a women named Rose, because the word is capitalized. To me, reading this poem helps me understand that we must focus on the little things in life, such as love, rather than trying to make all of our dreams come true. The poem makes me feel anxious at different parts, especially when it says “Few have seen the heavens, but ‘Haven’t you heard?’ because it is so unknown to us what happens after we die, but we rely on what other people say in order to find comfort.
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