I came across such a thing today.
The wasteland was a gravelly carpark and I swear this flower was the only one growing on the entire plot.
I resisted the urge to pluck it.
What allowed this sole flower to grow there?
The Tower did.
Was there a gunslinger nearby?
It’s Ka, man.
The power of love.
Flanders Field, the Reader’s Digest version.
That’s just not right. Everyone knows Ka is a black dog!
And here we see lobsang in the drawers (or wastelands) coming upon the rose.
[
](nichecom.com is for sale | HugeDomains)It’s a common poem to recite on Memorial day, when we honor those who died serving their countries in the armed forces.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish?
Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water.
Then came I into a certain field
Where the devil’s paint-brush spread
'Mid the gray and green of the rolling hills
A flaring splotch of red,–
An evil omen, a bloody sign,
And a token of many dead.
I saw in a vision the field-gray horde
Break forth at the devil’s hour,
And trample the earth into crimson mud
In the rage of the Will to Power,–
All this I dreamed in the valley of Kyll,
At the sign of the blood-red flower.
Was all that helpful, Lobsang? 