. Thorns Grow with Song It’s time to rend our hearts and look inside The chambered will, into the voices in The vein: thorns grow with song. A hope applied With mercy calls the tuner of the tidal Pull of the soul, brings rest, denying sin It’s time. To rend our hearts and look inside Reveals a bramble, canes of prickly pride That strangle sacrifice, and so, within, The vain thorns grow. With song, a hope applied Again, small notes of spring erupt and chide The choking vine. They scourge the ego’s skin. It’s time to rend our hearts and look. Inside We need to file the points where barbs collide, To cauterize, to stem the blood and pin The vein. Thorns grow. With song, a hope. Applied Again, confessed again, relief supplied In more small notes, repentances begin. It’s time to rend our hearts and look inside The vein: thorns grow with song, a hope applied. . . Maura H. Harrison is a poetry student in the Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing program at the University of St. Thomas. She lives in Fredericksburg, Virginia.