Diviner

The mighty butterfly bush Must first be hobbled Before its May burst Fragrant flowers of early Summer. Cut back of All the previous year’s Ambition. Laid waste to Stump and seemingly left For dead. Yet, from Every pore does pour a Bursting of harnessed Sunshine that sets out to Entwine its frothy Flowers up and out to The sky. An offering For the Father. (And the Butterflies.)

Peaceful, the soils of winter Frozen in time and distracted From the ambitions of summer Suddenly disturbed! Torn Apart foot by foot. Every Living thing destroyed to make Way the people’s plan for the Land. Focused fruits of Labor, water, soil and toil. Different traditions, each follow- ing the Master, The Sun. Timed only by its rising Desire to burn existence into Being. To breed green life to Sustain the Diviner.