Would That It Might

elements take root, seed reaches forth;
downward radicals developing long before light of day,
groundwork manufactured by mother nature, father time.

Would that it might send it’s shoot upward, in confidence.
a patchwork plethora of floral options,
bouquets worth of fates

blue bell,
beautiful, intense,
and crestfallen.

dandelion,
wished on, purposefully surrendered,
free-wheeling.

holly bush,
tolerant, protective
and awkward.

above broken ground,
all that isn’t cut down
eventually blossoms.

does the fruit and flower bearer
not long for a vineyard’s fate,
as men mourn for longevity?

rather than wither up,
or be plucked -
one man’s final feast or adornment -

surely the fate of the grape is to be envied?
essence pressed, bottled and corked,
for broader consumption at some ‘later’ to speak of.

how man longs to live on;
life poured onto pages
like wine stored away;

hoping to be imbibed,
to affect change beyond the grave.

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