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ikebana
Rolled up sleeves, Dark denim, strings pulled At the buttons Your hands, the Rough edges, the nails Jagged, not cut Your fingers, I’ve Noticed them: one has A long scar Along the tip, and Your skin is rough Along the nails Your hands, they’re Skilled hands of an Artist at work: And like a Conductor, you Orchestrate Bring beauty From the dying Flowers at The table. They Line up quickly, At attention: Fall into Place so gracefully. You create Symphonies, Move mountains, Seas Part for you.
You can do
Anything. I See that now. You must be My savior. Let me Follow you. Let me create |
Beauty in your
Name, let me Feel your power. It’s all in your Hands, your heart, Your mind: I’ve seen you stop Wars, feed the Hungry. Why are
You so strong? Why
Are your flowers So beautiful |