Once upon a dewy pretty dawn,
A tiny sweet bud opened her eyes,
A rose was she, tender of hue,
Bright, dreamy and scented too.
Days went by as her femininity bloomed,
One by one as the petals unfurled,
Coming into her own, shy and eager,
Making all around her forget their gloom.
Curious about the whole wide world,
Beautiful, naïve eyes, she looked around,
Glanced upon a big ol’ tree, laden,
Airy, yellow blooms dancing at noon.
Bunched together, trifle, silly, gay,
Singing a chorus, individuality at bay,
Yet the promising young rose yearned to be,
Carefree, cheery, dancing away with bees.
A lonely cold crept into her heart,
Day in, day out, she thought of naught,
But how to be some one she was not,
Depressed, heavy, intense, solemn eyed.
Gorgeous more she grew day by day,
Until a morn, a bouncy lil’ girl,
On her way, excited, to school,
Saw the rose, exclaimed with joy.
In that moment she finally knew,
What in life very few do,
To love oneself and be secure,
Calm, content, loving, worldly eyes.
Searching herself all answers she found
To look inside yet love all around,
Now she was proud to be earthbound,
Her joy from within lighting all around.
2 comments:
What if the joyed girl comes back another morn to see her rose withered by the malice of weather and time?
Would she continue to beam with glee?
Or would she succumb to this world of ephemeral joy - "Sigh of a girl"?
to shivsu:
moments of joy are ephemeral... and the moment of self-realization only helps the rose to face the coming moments of harsh reality with a grace and poise only found in those who are happy with who they are. their joy, by its very definition, doesnot depend on external factors...
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