Crown of Thorns

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Of what use are your long gnarled stems
Heads balding from the loss of fragile beauty
Sucked dry by bird and bee
Seeking the nectar of life hidden deep inside
Of what use is your thorny crown
Pocked and dried by sun and wind
Waiting in the remaining time
To be cut broken discarded
The glory days of ephemeral beauty gone
What’s left for the aging freckled head
What beauty remains for the dried and broken
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It was not all for naught, the losing of ones crown
For underneath the crown lies the key to beauty
The ongoing genetics of life the giftwrapped wonder
Beauty is in the seed passing on and on and on
Since the beginning of time
Without the crown of thorns there would be no future beauty
The would be no life here after
Beauty is passing, life is fragile, but the seed remains forever
To once again spring forth from the ashes of the past
Bringing life and hope and to that dried crown of thorns

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Bjorn asked us to use Metaphors in our poem. I chose to write about this dying sunflower, which reminded me of my life as I get older.

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