Beware the sister rose.
Having a form of beauty yet denying the power thereof,
she walks. Cautiously. Deserting her bountiful claim in the world,
she projects the earth’s higher abundance above herself;
broke the scales so she could be last.
Sitting,-chained up and blocked out to the
secrets of her smile
Her sound still brings life;
Her light far surpasses the fluorescent. Ultra. Violently,
she raises the strength of those around her by deliberately
decimating her own.
a million times over;
gave until her back teetered from the mass support lines
etched in her heart.
So He gave her wings
planted the seeds within her petals,anointed
that her surrender
would be her flight
Stooped over, she balances
allowing stem decay so that the reflection of God’s image
may be sensed through her petals:
His blood in her sacrifice.
His blood blooming
Till she became wings.
Each planted petal anointed
so her surrender would make her ere borne.
Even in decay, she adorns the very wall she touches.
Ballerina, she derives delicacy from the exacting
gentle grace even in her strength;
A finishing piece.
Beauty in struggle beautiful struggles make runes
of light twinkling fractured like
a multifaceted stone.
Beautiful. Self-credited but doesn’t know her worth-
beware the sister, she rose.
She gives where she takes;
She lives where shes decayed. Flesh crucified,
She decided to live by Christ by bowing
low and looking always...high.
She represents my sisters.
She represents me.