Winter Camellia

Blue Griffin Collections – Blast from the Past

Upon the branch, a red camellia glows,  
A wound of silk, the winter garden shows.  
Its petals burn with memory’s thrill,
But in my chest, the world is still.

My heart, a field of fallen snow,  
Where nothing roots, where nothing grows.  
No thaw, no pulse, no whispered name,
Only the cold, and the quiet shame.

Yet every night, that crimson bleed  
Sews seeds of ache I dare not seed.  
The flower bleeds, and I remain,
Snow holds the shape of hidden pain.

So red camellia, burn and bruise,
My frozen heart has less to lose.  
What is one more wound, one more stain,  
On ice that cannot weep again.

This is part of the Flower Poem Series

(A recovered piece of writing from ages ago, typed exactly as it was written back then.)