The Lilacs
The Lilacs
Where the lilacs grew they formed a wall
I knew must mean more than that
That was how lilacs liked to grow.
I could easily have walked around it
But to be able to say truly that
I had reached the other side
I had to crawl through the wall
And be at once scratched by branches
And perfumed by blossoms
As if by a mother who holds you
Even as she scolds you.
In life, too, years appear that appear
Impenetrable but that you
Somehow make it through,
Bleeding, yes, but by lilacs blessed.