To Oriah

Wild woman
walks in a garden
see a rose,
her colourful petals,
hidden thorns
It is happening…

open cuts,
Nasty ache under her skin
when does it stop?

Wounds getting old,
Heal by time..
Marks left on her skin
A reminder of days
She fell down
and Stood up again..

Wild woman is brave
Holding her head up
Continuing the path
In grace
In Love.

More roses to meet,
More offering to give
Or take…

Thorns, open cuts
Are nothing
In compare
To what love creates
In her whole heart…

Wild woman
is a magical rose
with one thing missing

© Serena Devi, October 2010