The Rosebush Advises Me How to Survive

Cut your losses. Let the blossoms go,
the shrivelled leaves, the desiccated stems
and save your strength to save the roots below.

The wind will shred a branch each time it blows,
both leaves and flowers thrown to kingdom come
so cut your losses, let the blossoms go.

The sky’s on fire with heat, and stricken crows
fall in the street, black iridescent gems
so save your strength to save the roots below.

The sky has turned to ice, the air to snow
and widowed summer weeps in tattered hems
so cut your losses, let the blossoms go.

What thunder-strike destroyed, I will regrow.
I can replace what’s lost to raging flame.
I’ve saved my strength to save the roots below.

My thorns will teach you what a fish should know:
the ice won’t reach the bottom of the stream.
Just cut your losses, let the blossoms go
and save your strength to save the roots below.

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