After bathing in her dreams
beneath cascades of hazy nothingness
she awakened, startled, the future pledged
within her burgeoning body, her rising mind.
Standing silent, primly naked
she greeted the tree outside her window.
In the dawn it bathed. On every limb,
there twinkled jewels of frozen raindrops.
Steam hissed, clanked in the old radiator.
The child turned and saw in her bed
a fiery rose, inchoate crimson.
She could feel its searing thorn within her.
The tree outside the window wore
gems of now melting wet on every bough.
The crystal beads fused, one by one,
then fell to earth, like tears
shed bitterly for yesterday,
yet with deep joy for the morrow.
But in silence, each tear.
In silence, every one.
* * *
(c) Gregory V Driscoll 2012
O'Driscoll's Take on the World 