Let The Roses Grow

You're not invisible to me
I see your hidden tears
trapped beneath and tucked away
for all those dripping years.

But then I found your rain barrel
right beside my house
an over flowing mess
now running fast and soaked
deep into my past.

Now standing on these marshy thoughts
I dwell
wringing time, now drenched
no longer can I say or tell
the difference in the curvatures
of barrel staves from your weighted spine.

In support I kneel to you
wrapping rugged steel hooped arms
around your bulging tear filled cask
unbothered by your weathered wood
or tarnished rusted past.

And I say to you
No longer should you shut this valve
nor staunch the flow, but open wide
so I can clearly see and not to worry
you're not invisible to me
I see your hidden tears
and its okay
to irrigate
and let the roses grow.