I saw it as a bud
hiding its beauty
But I've seen a rosebud before.
I knew all along
there was more than what was seen.
I'd waited so long for spring to come
and now i'm left breathless
as a warm sun brinks the horizon
and the dew settles and glistens
like so many dreams in my mind.
And I cling to hope as droplets of water cling to roses
and one by one the warmth of the sun
disperses them
but one has survived the moring
it rests, cradled gently in the gragranced arms of the opening bud.
A butterfly closes its wings
and somewhere a little child screams
and here in front of me is a delicate flower
Its life, a mere blink of an eye,
and mind no longer. |
|
