Every day is folded around
A soft center, fragrant with heaven.
To unwrap that moment
Carefully peeling back
The petals of every-day routine
To find this nougat of wisdom
Is the poet's work.
Today it may be
A sulfur flitting across my path,
Brushing my cheek by accident.
Tomorrow it might be
Bark of a crepe myrtle
Curling at the foot of the tree
As it outgrows this year's skin.
Or tears of a child in pain
Kissing my hand
As I carefully unwind bandages
Over her burns,
the only wild bouquet
She has received in the war zone
Of her hard life.
Lillian Susan Thomas
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fragrant-with-heaven/
