Storm Flower (reading 2)
This manmade calamity, we are tottering on the brink.
Failing, sliding, out of control, on a torturous ice rink.
Toxicity all around us, pelting acid rain burns our eyes.
Rotting coagulation of harm, death pours from the skies.
From the ashes of destruction grows the Storm Flower.
A rebuttal to complete devastation, a singular power.
When all around is morbidly cursed, here is new life.
Colourful petals unfurl against the backdrop of strife.
Rare specimen, beautiful, vivid colours, intoxicating hues.
Roots grasping the broken, growth is breaking the news.
That in the end, after hope’s all but gone, after destruction.
Irrepressible life will march on, oh, what sweet seduction.
Makes me think that ...
The universe, life on earth, civilisations, entrepreneurialism, organisations and work are each veined with birth, death and renewal. The beauty of words in the hands of a skilful writer is they permit the reader to find meaning resonant with where they are. Storm Flower is one such collection of words.
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