|Rosa gallica Evêque|
painted by Redouté
It's life itself—from Beginning past End—
stem, bud, growth pains, rose and hip—love
that, cutback, grows again
and at last thrives.
We can't reject this love. O, how I want
to find it!
We dropped it in a sandbox long ago—
lost it one moonless night—
then forgot it.
But now bring it! All channels are open.
We could meet
around the City Hall since Jungle Gyms
are now too small. Hold Hands.
God loves us all.