Thursday, March 15, 2007

The Rose



The moment you see a rose you feel the blush of innocence rise to your cheeks.
It could be dark red or a light shade of pink.
A rose is the perfect symbol of love in its various shades.
For me a rose can transform me to a land of beauty in a matter of seconds.
The perfectly sculpted petals and their smooth out turn, the carefully filled colour in gods perfect design.A dark red can talk to you of passion that crosses every line of caution.A pink beseeches you to handle the passion with care.A red that's watered down with dollops of white the symbol of the pure and serene.
Its difficult to describe what is perfect,You are always at a loss of words.
I guess that's whats happening to me right now.They lie against my white wall breathing life into my life with their gentle breath.With each whiff of air they bring to be a dash of their colour and I try to fill myself with their gentle fragrance.
Together in a heap they lie patiently living each moment to bring a smile on my lips.I see them surviving each moment and dieing the next.I look at them trying my best to capture them forever.don't go I say,You are why my life is beautiful,why I get up each morning and smile,live a little more for me I cajole them so that I can feel your smoothness in my harsh life.You make this barren land look like paradise every time i lose myself into the oasis of your colour.
I close my eyes and I can see them dancing under my eyelids. I Close my eyes and I can feel the softness on my skin,I close my eyes and I feel their fragrance playing with my senses,I close my eyes and I can feel love enchanting me with its warmth.

With each rose that you give me,
I see the love that you want to share,
the yesterday that you want to wipe away and the today that says you care,
A hundred hopes one rose harbours a thousand dreams to fulfill,
but that's what a rose is living for to help you built when nothing exists,
A lesson of sacrifice it gives you as its journey comes to a end,
when every drop of beauty is bled to a descend,
but at last as it heaves and lays to rest,
there are no regrets in its petals,there is no regret in its stem,
A life it has lived for others,selfless and pure without any condescend,
even as it lays crumpled,its as beautiful as the heaven above,
For the rose is not beautiful because of its colour or because of its
delicate bow,
Its beautiful because within,
It has a heart of gold,
the strength to give you a smile for a moment
and sacrifice its life on the alter of love.

No comments: