Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Saturday, April 12, 2008

One long stem rose

I again glanced over at the long stem red velvet like rose set in a clear crystal vase upon my desk. Its stem concave still stretches as if its cut stem were still growing. Less fragrant then many of the roses from my garden, what is lost in the fragrance of the rose is made up in the beauty of the petals. The compact petals tightly embrace each other forming a picturesque vision, opening little by little with each day that passes. I saw not one long stem rose, but a lifetime. It wasn’t the emotions that were drawn in the moment, but the memories like those that meet with the day. One glimpse many stories as it felt almost like a pin to a coffin sealing the past and yet as the petals opened I saw the beauty that only time gives. I looked away from the rose and I rolled a hot cup of tea between my hands. It is the toying of heart and soul and also our ability to over analyze life that made the rose so haunting. Who am I? Where do I belong, the answers are all different when the questions were given to each the heart, soul and mind. My mind took center stage, like a child raising his or her hand to be heard first. You belong where you are needed most; you are wife and mother, friend and both woman and child. The soul impatiently awaiting its turn burst out with you are spirit, you are love, you are the beauty of the mountains, the rage of the sea, you are free and aloof answering to no one but thee. You belong to the wind and to the sun, and you belong to the earth and your soul to just one. The heart patiently wept from each emotion packed response, gathered them together tossed to the wind and said it is I the heart where you’ll find you begin. You are love from the moment your heart takes a beat and a little of everything to everyone you’ll see. You belong to the moment, you belong to the wind and you belong to the memory that haunts from within.

No comments: