Harden your minds if you will, they are soft
That think they can till the hard cross of death
Into a blooming flower without oft
Thinking on me. Towers of men, their breath
Coated with mints of green, tend only to
Earthly affairs of meager point, and rue
Traffic in the underworld's dreadful glare of
Red and orange; once a blissful white glove. Yet
Consider my dear loved ones another,
Stand not by yourself, by your mother get
Heightened standards to love your neighbor! Bet
Ruthlessly upon one thing in this world;
That love is found in the other, no throne
Can sustain the emptiness when alone.
Cross and Bloom, (c) Luke Bennette, April 2012
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