Aren’t roses stunning? Their beauty and complexity astounds. A myriad of layered petals, some tightly wound, others not. Fragrant and thorny, in hues from black to white.
Dry and brittle now, but still delicate and lovely as ever.
… as we travel again between life and death,
Waking and dream, blinking, while layers within layers,
None better, none worse, unravel and knit up before us . . .
__ Jay Woodman