Rain floods the sage canvas,
Saturating greenery to bring life,
And rot.
Thick, musty brown deals out death,
Next to brilliant lilac lilies and
Mazarine weeds.
Luminous sun scorches grass−now brown, and soil−
Springing seeds, gorged with life, loftily.
Human oils from fingers touch,
And pluck:
Ending life utterly,
Within stained glass and water.
Yet, this pastoral corpse produces beauty,
Love, and hope: healing hearts,
And mending stems of life through smell
And soft touch,
Until rusty leaves, unshackled, and withered aroma,
Plummet.
Thus our destruction, brings life,
And rot.