Law, say the Gardeners, is the sun.
When you rise first with the dawn
you know what is to be born alone.
And as the Gardener carves His plants into shape
with plans of blooming before the fall of night
the land has but a little goodness left,
clinging to things that fight the sky.
But I, I will learn the way of flight;
to be a flower that knows the Law
better than it knows the dirt and dark;
to be a rose in fullest bloom,
with its beauty like a sword.
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