Thoughts of a Bush

A different sort of always

(unlike the one we know)

rooted there in beauty,

with silent urge to grow.

Found between the boundaries,

of Earth and Velvet sky.

Carried on the summer breeze,

without a reason why.

Surrounded by un-moveable

(ideas we made of stone)

it’s easy for a humble plant,

to often feel alone.

You worry at this moment

(preoccupied by time)

as if to see my beauty,

would seem a truer crime.

So if you choose to wander

(know you’ll find me here)

waiting for that passing glance,

to finally draw you near.