by Jon Ross
The blooms have withered 'way just as quickly as they came.
An ever present reminder that nothing ever stays the same.
Barely noticed and yet it looms in every corner of the world.
The gift is in our hands but first our hearts must be unfurled.
Who takes time to smell the bitter sweet smell of our demise?
Deafened by the joy of others, no one hears the other's cries.
Comparison, the tactful thief of all that ever brought us joy.
End the game of who's to blame, no one is guiltless in this ploy.
A time of change is upon us so be the change you wish to see.
Tend to the garden you can touch, are you a flower or a bee?