THE BLOOM
A rose has blossomed before her time
Her petals slowly wither
As the earth soon becomes her domain
And her fragrance upon the tree remains.
She is crushed into nothingness
As the earth dances to the music of horses’ hooves,
Petal by petal her sweet being subsides
As the earth anxiously beckons her to come.
She cries out to the tree,
“Behold I was made in beauty
But time has forsaken me”.
In her misery she glaringly looks at the youthful bud
Mourning,
Alas! My child, relish your youth
For moments are ours yet for a while,
And all that was is no more…
And all that rise shall one day fall,
For in the end we all must heed the Black Master’s call.
Her petals slowly wither
As the earth soon becomes her domain
And her fragrance upon the tree remains.
She is crushed into nothingness
As the earth dances to the music of horses’ hooves,
Petal by petal her sweet being subsides
As the earth anxiously beckons her to come.
She cries out to the tree,
“Behold I was made in beauty
But time has forsaken me”.
In her misery she glaringly looks at the youthful bud
Mourning,
Alas! My child, relish your youth
For moments are ours yet for a while,
And all that was is no more…
And all that rise shall one day fall,
For in the end we all must heed the Black Master’s call.
Copyright © 2008 by Anna Sahadeo
