Poem Hunter
Echoes Of A Rose…
BJH (05/29/65 / Missouri)

Echoes Of A Rose…

On the surface of his face, he seems an angel
As his visage paints an image for the world
Of perfect colored petals held together
A carefully constructed, flawless rose

At the center of his flower there is nothing
An emptiness where love was meant to be
An abyss exists, instead, at the axis of his head
Picturing ideas he cannot see…

The painter’s palette seems to be a jumble
Where stumbling, his colors fell awry
Instead of painting beauty and completeness
Images of fear say he could die

A swirling rainbow, masked, beneath the surface
His heart, an anxious shell, recoils in pain
Yet, presents reflections of our likeness
Desiring that he be seen as the same...
As you and me

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