the tear-kiss

Give me the prick of suffering, then.

What is a rose rid of thorns
    But a beauty bared and naked
        Of what keeps it bravest,
            Safest and sacred?
    Give me the prick of suffering, then,
And not a heart to harden,
  But a pulse for even
    The softest sensation—

That I might stand amidst the garden.
    For I’d not to be near-missed,
        Nor less the tear-kissed,
            By love’s fullest blossom tender;
    As, thusly watered, it springs
From whole surrender
  Unto so sweetly thistled
    A sanctification.

Previous Post:
    Poetry: Drawn


5 comments on “the tear-kiss

  1. A bit ‘Shakespearean! Nicely done!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, honestly. Shakespeare had a special way of building emotional houses and furnishing them with finely carved words, such that we could inhabit them. A fantastic story teller. Easily one of my personal favorites and from an age of word-smithing we, sadly, seem to find or favor less and less these days.


  2. Soul Gifts

    What is a rose without the thorns? A yin without a yang. A life without challenges. Light without shade. It is left lacking….

    Liked by 1 person

    • An unchallenged love is one picked too early from the branch, I agree wholeheartedly, Raili. Otherwise, it forgets the strength-of-stalk that bends beneath the the hammer of hurricane winds, yes? Love is special. It must be tormented, to a degree, so that it finds its way to that belief. As always, thank you, Raili, for coming here just to talk…

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: