Rose

I had forgotten
The rosebush I planted
At the foot of a column
Of red and black granite.
Day and night
Our worries distract us
And we fail to see that the simple
Act of planting will set our path,
Rising and unfurling, like the foliage,
Into the noblest of knowledge!
Removed from reality, and stressed tight like a bow
Racing around, far from nature
Who thinks of the cutting
Tossed so long ago into the corner of a park?
Now that age has loosened my strings,
I have returned to my borough
And found my rosebush so massive
That it has, ever so gently, toppled the granite!…
A mere seed can teach us
The law of great things
For surely all it takes is a tiny rose-shoot,

A drop of heavenly love,
To hold forever, in our enraptured soul,
The holy Truth:
Namely that here below,
That which alone possesses Life
Triumphs over death and cruelty;
A single good seed is enough to produce a fine tree
Which one day will demolish
The cold and mighty marble columns
And the futile pride of the heaviest granite!…

Published in La Montagne Parfumée
Éditions de la Revue Phénicienne, 2004.