Reach up, reach out, and claim your glory.
You may be rooted in this garden, sister,
But need not remain as a rose closed.
Explore your nature, Empress,
And slowly, from your dark satin folds,
Bring to light mother’s darker business:
Expose its magic, its beauty, its lyric.
Progressing in this cycle, you may prick the careless,
But think not that you are grisly and evil –
A few prickles necessarily guard your beauty, and
The shapely hooks best aid your sunward surges.
So smile, open up and face the sun, sister.
Welcome its rays and the honeybees’ industry,
For within your petals is a key to life —
To its sweet fragrance and fruit.
From your hips, you may
Let it tempt.
Let it sate.