During an April morning's walk,near blooming magnolias and an awaking rhododendron;
in the dry wintered dirt; under an ever-greened branch;
lay a head; stilled and quiet.
A head with finely carved features of an ancient time.
Something that was once intact.
Something that was once admired.
Something that no longer is now what it was then.
Then.
The beauty of then.
The terror of then.
Something has vacated the premises
Something brave and beautiful.
Something without the head that lay
under the ever-greened branch; in the dry wintered dirt;
near blooming magnolias and an awakening rhododendron.
My prayer: May I be so brave and beautiful.
Walk on.
