Hammering the Roses

Dreaming of Abraham's trek down the other side of the Unknown
where he went following the laughter echoing round corners
Hearing the doors shut behind, and waiting with breath held
to see them open ahead.

And silence,
years of silence.

The answers are mere verses ahead to us, mere paragraphs,
mere pages. We Read. We Know.
13 years slip by as we drink our coffees over pages that were life.
He lost hope, strayed, wishing fulfillment in some way Less
Supernatural or at least More Immediate. As do we.

Magic takes time.

Beauty forms slowly and takes our breath away... but the silence
is too deep too long too much.
We are too busy hammering the roses into shape.


* the idea for the last line stolen from my friend Brian Kehew, who has forgiven me :)