There Are Roses In The Garden (From, Dried Flowers) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

There are roses in the garden with much fresh,
Like sea that has opened its wings flying birds;
Going footsteps the future will enmesh,
Travel along all what goes on forwards.

Instants and hours that must find its pathways,
Traveling eagles and the houseflies so small;
Coming darkish winter later spring days,
All what catches moments makes its right call.

The wanderer that is crossing at night,
Finding the earth under his worn shoes;
Transient clouds drifting in its high flight,
All the seeds that in seedlings continues.

All that is transformed again to the new,
When the summer comes green again here through.