The Rose by Stephen Jarrell Williams

A heaviness in the air,
all men turning over in their beds,
sweating in the sheets,
dreams like moon eyes,
silver scenes of something strange,

a quiet clearing,
surrounding trees listening,

opening our windows and looking out,
not enough reasons for all the horror,
not enough reasons to look for hope,

yet, we go on
with life inside us
sprouting up in the clearing,
a rose through the heaviness,
making its own heaven.

Published in Word Catalyst Magazine- February 2010