(Read in order: Ivy, A Butterfly, A Flower, And A Leaf)

In her sleeping beauty twists
Another leaf perchance?
Or another to fall

Who knows…
Still, she grows tall
Covering all then’s, and now’s
Is, and will be’s
In careful consternation of all the how’s
As she reaches again for unmeasured skies
Well past after the final time

Cut her, or burn her, spare her no grief!
Water for her, for them blood
Out of prestigious Styrofoam cups.
Ransack, and violate her, plundering intricacies
Another to boast dominion over being
And dare tear her from what she so faithfully clings!

Yet she…
In her sleeping beauty, relentlessly
Her roots run fast, her roots deep
And in that forsaken death of sleep
Where weeping laughter vows indignantly
She is reminded of her rising dreams
Reminded exactly how to reach

Her spirit, sweet…
Her leaves are counted heart beats!
Her perfect face cast in dust,
Hopelessly crawls, desperately creeps.
See it decorate the barren,
And crown the desolate, green.

She gives her all, unafraid to fall
And upholds her loss, rejoicing…
Even after she’s taken quite greedily
Those that pick at her leaves to confine her
Underestimate the spirit that drives her

Quite stubborn, in fact, it’s hopelessly free!

Condemn her, and you inspire her
Something sacred, it revives her
It’s in those unbecoming places that you’ll find her
Don’t deny her she’ll defy you, who come to control
To her broken body, and unbending soul;
It never gets old.

It’s strangely true…
Those around her can only uphold
All the tangled directions that but heaven knows
So cast all your shadows of doubt
She’ll still crawl a way out
In utter disregard of what may
Trim to teach her of place

She… Relinquished now
Pyres, gods hang her burden from a tree
For her a pile, for her great heaps!
Fires, gathered in plastic bags as they leave
Will sublime, still she breathes
There’s something survived, something asleep
Among dismembered pieces scattered, there reclines
The gentle ivy vine.

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