The Road Is Long Like The Stem Of A Rose Poem by Mark Heathcote

The road is long like the stem of a rose.
But it's time to flower, which is not the end.
The time to flower is the same as a daylily.
Not on a stem but a scape
with multiple flowering buds
opening bright orange on what seems forever
But what is soon sadly over?
Never to flower again.

The road is long like the stem of a rose.
But it's time to flower, which is not the end.
The time to flower is in the here and now, my friend.
Not when you're already brown bread.
The time to flower is when you rise.
And pull back the covers and the curtains.
And put on your clothes and your shoes.
And throw back your arms to embrace the day.

The road is long like the stem of a rose.
But it's time to flower, which is not the end.
The time to flower is ever-evolving.
Like a mountain river springing forward and flowing
Eternally circling the sky and the window
When the snow is falling, and even then,
And even then, it's still flowering.
In crystal forms that'll have you smiling and whistling.