by Ralph Dranow
I reach in to grasp
the voluptuous yellow flare rose
at the rose garden,
anticipating its intoxicating fragrance.
My finger recoils,
pricked by a thorn,
inflicting a sharp pain,
a sliver of blood,
A teachable moment:
You’re standing on sacred ground.
Take off your shoes.
You’re being taught that
every beautiful being desires to be courted,
wooed with humble hands and heart,
her mystery and splendor honored.
Copyright © 2022 – Ralph Dranow. All rights reserved.
About the Author
Ralph Dranow works as an editor, ghostwriter, and writing coach. His poems and articles have been widely published. He lives in Oakland, CA with his family.
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