Ikebana

Ikebana

by Seah Greenhorn

(Poem with copyright)

It speaks.

I listen.

A delicious breeze to pacify
my flaming anguish inner
I held to heart.

It scorched
as I swallowed it whole.

My tragedy I turned to art.

A twig.
A branch contorted.
Blades of grass twisted

I ordered.
A leaf.
A rose.

No vase to hold.

Now I recline.
My floral designed
to reach

inside

my once
frazzled mind.

You see:
Beauty soothes a battered soul.

What Ikebana means to me.
http://wol.jw.org/en/wol/d/r1/lp-e/102005570?q=breeze&p=par© 18 minutes ago, Lucretia Mccloud    hope • personal • nature • spiritual