And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud
was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~ Anais Nin
What if the only thing nurtured is violence?
What blossoms then?
Dead ends with shotgun shells?
Petals pulsating pools of blood?
A tired earth that constantly quakes?
Flakes over cities that never see snow?
Where did all the flowers go?
Brenda Warren 2014
For Day 4, Elizabeth asked us to write a poem in a form we seldom use. For me? Questions. In its entirety. I like it. But I didn’t like it until the last line landed. Sometimes that last line evades you for awhile. The Anais Nin quote floated through a Facebook post and became fodder for this piece.