A rose, by nature, blooms in grace,
With petals soft, it carves its space.
In gardens where the whispers blend,
It stands, a beauty to transcend.
Its velvet touch and fragrant breath,
A dance of life, defying death.
In crimson hues or blush of dawn,
It greets the world, a silent song.
Each thorn it bears, a tale untold,
Of love and loss, both fierce and bold.
A paradox of soft and stern,
In its embrace, all hearts do yearn.
Beneath the moon’s enchanting light,
The rose unfolds, a sight so bright.
In twilight’s hush, or morning's dew,
Its beauty paints a world anew.
A symbol of the heart's desires,
Of secret dreams and passions' fires.
The rose, a timeless, tender muse,
Inspire, it does, the souls it woos.
So let us cherish what it shows,
The fleeting grace, the eternal rose.
In every petal, life’s refrain,
A song of joy, a touch of pain.
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making space
Since the only thing that might pull us back up is caring, it only makes sense that here, long after I’ve let my anger born of heartbreak and grief misplace, multiply, misdirect itself, let the enormity of my solitude turn into something I don’t know how to dispute with, something thick and heavy and suffocating, let the coldness thrash and fight under my skin, deeper still, in between the arches of my organs; here where the ground is always close and the fall is easy and I surrender to it often, lie without purpose for hours, it only makes sense that it is here, I decide to show up and surrender to the possibilities of the night. Show up to those who I deserted. Drawn to the sense of accomplishment, something I haven’t felt in a while, to memory of finished dish sending its aroma into the world and with it, wrapping the room with a strong sense of sweet nostalgia, I get up and decide to cook. I pick up my phone, type a message that reads “Dinner at mine @ 8PM, don’t bring anything” and before my courage deserts me again, drop it in our friends’ group chat, the way one would do when diffusing a bomb in the movies: one eye closed, snip at the wire, hoping for the best.
By Mesh Toraskar4 days ago in Feast
Comments (1)
Good poem.