If given the chance

Would willows weep away weathered wisdom;
stripping naked bearings of time's wound

Would bushes of berries itch for faded blossoms;
the buttons of sweetness spoiled by the melancholy of roots

Would monarchs shed away their burden of flight;
yearning for lonesome trails of honey nostalgia

Would furry beasts lose the fangs, the claws, the thirst;
again the suckling youth of bountiful bosoms

Would the hunter fall prey to his hunted;
gone with the traps, the rifles;
a stalk of daffodils in hand seeking mama's blueberry sundress

Would island jungles spill forth sunken stories washed ashore;
praying in dawn's glow for the sanctuary across the lonesome
chasm of gloomy blue

If only, given the chance