The Illusion

At a distance it looks perfect,
the flower erect, white and pure,
a symbol of beauty, purity,
proud in the garden,
it’s petals in bright contrast
to the dark green.

But look closer
and you will see
there is no perfection,
that, beautiful as it seems
from a distance,
there has been a battle here,
and there are wounds.
Yellow pollen bleeds,
across skin scarred with love’s
dark wars.

About this poem

Many of us look much better than we are. Our hearts are breaking. We are struggling. We have day to day battles. We are overwhelmed.

But there is beauty in that struggle. More than we realize.

The picture was taken at the Bellagio Gardens in Las Vegas. Way prettier than the casinos in my book.

Tom