Nectar
It’s fifteen years now I’ve been growing roses.We all understand how beautiful they areAnd how they often smell like the nectarWe imagine the gods daily indulgeFor youth eternal. Deception lurks here,However, and the mind must remain calmAnd even detached—what price such renewal?
The rose teaches us the fearful compactOur fantasies hide from our fragile reasonWhich scarcely bears the thought of change in life:To live forever is to die forever.The stories we tell ourselves hide from usThe truth the rose displays. Rooted we live.Even our gods come down to their roots.
It’s fifteen years now I’ve been growing roses.We all understand how beautiful they areAnd how they often smell like the nectarWe imagine the gods daily indulgeFor youth eternal. Deception lurks here,However, and the mind must remain calmAnd even detached—what price such renewal?
The rose teaches us the fearful compactOur fantasies hide from our fragile reasonWhich scarcely bears the thought of change in life:To live forever is to die forever.The stories we tell ourselves hide from usThe truth the rose displays. Rooted we live.Even our gods come down to their roots.