Field of Thorns

While walking with intrusion upon the light of morn I stumbled across a field of thorns The ghastly things were everywhere Standing erect and poised without a care The field was devoid of other weeds It seemed to go on endlessly Each bush was trimmed with precision so fine I wondered what gardener had wasted his time A path had been hewn in the middle of the field I paused to ponder while time stood still Should I take this detour or stick to the road? Heightened anticipation overshadowed my woes I gingerly placed one foot on the track Ignoring a small voice that bid me ‘go back’ I increased my stride from a walk to a run Determined to forge ahead until I was done The road was winding with considerable twists I faltered for a moment as I did not expect this But I gathered myself and picked up the pace The rising sun and I were caught in a race With every muscle tired and aching and straining I wondered just what I would be gaining Was this tedious trek more that I could bear? There were stones and pot holes everywhere I was gazing ahead when barely within my sight I spotted an oasis of green glistening with light My heart grew wings and lifted my feet As laughter brushed my lips softly but sweet I met beauty so humbling I was cast to the ground My senses reeling as my lips made no sound My vision was restored in this field of thorns Captivated by a rose in the fading light of morn