JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

Growing in this garden of faces

there are many flowers

hues of softness, thistles, thorns

strangers of exotic beauty, aloof,

some poisonous, others even deadly

and here and there, quite rare

but not so rare to make their sudden

recognition so exquisite, one or two

your heart instantly recognizes

and you think, what is it

about these ones that you like so much

seeing past foliage, texture, petals

into their green and beating heart

 

And in that moment you know

that flowers have souls too

and eyes that look into your own,

instant friends recognizing you

recognizing them