Hall of Thorns



Tread lightly among the thorny growth
Below the eaves of filtered sun and
Dead, brown limbs of barbs still sharp with use.
Dare to lift your head and see the greenly growth,
A crown of leaf above the thorn and
Arching boughs that sprout anew with
Fresh rows of thorns on limbs of green.
A roof of sun, held by beams of the live
And dead branches,
Beams that twine and gather to form
A hall of thorns,
lit by blossoms, white and fading,
like flickering lights in the shadows
of the briary corridor.
Tapestries of white and golden hue
To grace
A hall of thorns.

Margaret Jago
May 2002