make me like a shrub rose
who needs a little tending, just a little.
whose consistency is humbling
and whose scent persuades my deepening and stirs wondering: what else enjoys her treasured essence? and for what purpose is this royal aroma offered other than my calming, my wistful knowing and my pleasure?
who returns many times a year,
eloquently minding her space in the realm while pushing past concrete limits
always regenerating
whose flowers might be small, yet unfold gratuitously as clusters of explosive invitation, one upon another in all levels of development from bud to dripping.
she cannot be ignored, yet she asks nothing from you except the occasional act of love: pulling from her the thorny vines which seek to choke her life. everything else is optional
yet irresistible.
she is ever faithful in the smallness of transcendence.
I highly recommend expanding the video and turning the volume up. 🌹