On the table by the window,
the light not elegant, cloud-shrouded,
a small yellow rose in an old vase
and a single almond, lying there.
The yellow rose
yellow against the grey
shadow of the bookshelf,
the almond by itself.
Yellow folded within the rose,
and not unfurled.
The light moves gently,
satisfied to hold the almond
and the rose. The rose
does not aspire, the almond rests.
The yearning,
and the peace,
to be as true
as this.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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