Suzday Open Thread & Poetry Warning!

Garden Gate



The angel stood at the garden gate,
Burning sword in hand.
“Fear not,” he said, as they always did.



“It’s gonna be rough,” he said.
“There’ll be thorns and sweat, and pain.
“But not so fast! You’ll not go in again.”



“I promise, though,
That through the years,
Each day when work is done,
You’ll remember,
In some ancestral way,
The sweetness that lay here.” 

PB, April 23, 2025

🤍