An Exchange of Flowers

Remind me that where I’m from 

Is not where I’ll stay 

Run my fingers across jagged leaves 

Untangle my clothes from the thorns of the vines  

Let me give you in return

A bouquet of forsythia 

Trust that things will get better 

Even in unrest 

The imperial rules in brokenness 

And lives in and through

The fecundity of poor imagination 

We’re ruling all of the world 

To strike a war again

The falling reign of the mighty

And the rest of us fall to the ground like rain  

We dance in the storm 

We’re underaged to decide  

But we dance to the beat 

Of misunderstood political ideologies

Today’s the last day 

Of our valuable campaigning 

The trees are dying on the inside 

And falling on us 

Nurture in us 

A heart for redemption 

A heart to want for 

Our world to be made new 

Where there is no place for violent revenge 

No place for all the ways we betray each other 

And unleash chaos 

Forgive 

As you hope to be forgiven 

Let me receive a bouquet of asphodels 

As I lose the colour in my cheeks 

Pale and afraid 

From feeling both joy and pain