Orange rose,
Of neglect and folly
Hanging off the balcony from the vine of recycled dreams,
A child of summer through countless seasons past
Strung out, cast off, and living in the shadows of desire,
Yet beautiful, unawares and keeping the earthly fire.
And its so unassuming of its own sanctity,
Its grand importance as it remains intact,
When the sun rises high over eastern trees
Like a clarion call from the Pacific Sea,
Like the almighty eyes which declare its destiny.
Ren Michael 