Faith Is A Garland Of Flowers Poem by Mark Heathcote

Faith is a flower, newly unlocked
strung they can also make a garland.
Whose fragrance travels the world?
Whose beauty coverts the globe on-going
iridescent as an opal - newly moulded.

It is as if a cherished rose must be
plucked wet, externally blooded:
and not so delicately hand-picked
so as this lovers vine can expand
love mustn't be guarded like a temple.

Else the fruit of love won't ripen
the seed won't pip or draw in water
pure at the core of its thirsting soul.
And roots will wither at their source
then on weeping stems, flowers shall fall.