Stems Of Steel

Fingers crave the flowers of the soul,

the petals of virtue and vision,

those stems of steel

forged in the heart

from the seeds of deepest conviction.

 

They never fade or die

even when winter’s frost

to stand as an invincible rose

against what tries to kill its meaning.

 

What grows out of the spirit

in the claret hues of purest passions,

is able to withstand any climate of opinion,

any season that might fades its beauty

because it is composed of quality,

able to endure it is metal

beyond any time or sunrise.

 

By its strength in inspired splendor

can a single flower

sprout as a bouquet in other minds

who then plant is seeds as the garden

of where life dwells with an appreciation

for those floral arrays in concepts

that become the spring of awakening.