When I’ve lost all
means of slamming
my nose to the grind
stone, that’s when it
seems easiest to for
get. Everything that
keeps my thoughts
lustrous, keeps my
focus secure. And
when, as I’m barely
able to get my feet
out of bed just to
do the simplest of
necessities, much
less those things
that will elevate
me, will get me
out of the stink
in which I am
stuck, it’s really
hard to muster
such a simple
thought as
this: to get
to the grind
stone one
must go
through
the rose.
Nose to the
rose. Nose
to the rose.
Never give
in to the
pessimism
when, just
take a look
around, con
centrate on
what’s deep
within, and
put your
nose to
the rose,
Del. Wade
through the
thorns if you
must, but
breathe in
the brew of
the blooms
and it will
get you
through
this mess
and into
the next.
