Search endlessly for this truth divine

Ghostly are blossoms conjured?
Swirling paths remembered...

On these petals shall we tread?
Rise as though they never shed.

On their pink ribbons, shall we glide?
As angels only the child espied:

As cherry blossoms... so many spent...
Shall we dance as they did, ascent.

Oh the majesty and the grace to ponder!
The orchard and his sacred acre...

Oh, what's there to be afraid off?
Too be as like the petals castoff...

Too be one with this stream of life
Take wonderment for a wife.

Take that lead of root and vine
Search endlessly for this truth divine.

poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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