Bushes - a poem
Bushes by Marsha Marie looking thru the branches i feel lost everyday confused of what will happen of where i will belong fruit of passion has dried its last withered pulse fruit of the spirit is all i have left tangled branches engulf my life yet they do not hide me green, yellow, tan and brown like emotions they pass me around can i taste them? can i share them? the thorns are in the way fruit of compassion i see to the left fruit of resistance i see to the right who is the master grower in all of this confusion? why is he not pruning where i need? or is he and i do not see it? the floor is dry the twigs crackle under pressure yet when i look up i see the light the light that will guide my spirit upwards where i belong