What deep spring feeds these tears that flood my eyes?
What well of emotion have I tapped that surges up
And leaves me chasing for my breath?
What unspeakable thing have I done
That has brought me to my knees?
This place, what is it called?
Where is the path back;
The path forward?
Am I lost
Or not?
Oleander
Stands ahead
Looking back at me,
A love sick creature destined
For the protection of her menagerie.
Oh, all creatures great and small, that suffer
From the insults of a world that has no time for love
Have in her home a sanctuary. I am just the latest refugee.