It Is quite essential for everyone to comprehend the very purpose behind their existence. This poem is one of a sort where a rose bud is trying to find its motive for budding in an orchard among its lineage.
AM A ROSE
Am a flower, Am a rose,
Still a bud though,
Waiting for my leaves to grow,
The dews to flow,
The sun to glow.
I dwell at a place with my kins,
A rainbow garden,
A realm of a well spring.
Slowly I opened my petals with grace,
A rich carmine I had gained.
I tried to snuggle, I tried to nestle,
With those who glued their vision,
On my cherry red petals.
Soon the uncomfort inside me capsized,
The fear and shy, I kept aside.
The Austins, the proud ones,
Bragged about their royal inheritance.
The Bourbone’s family, all in pink,
Gaily gave a glinty wink.
The Tea Rose on my right,
Greeted with a dignified smile,
To extol the beauty of my semblance,
Came forward, the Albas, the White.
Far away, I spotted another kin,
She waived along the breezy wind.
The colour of optimism, the colour of gay,
The gaudy yellow, shimmering with the sun’s rays,
The exuberant Amber Flush was her name.
We hugged, we kissed,
Celebrated my presence with love and bliss.
Pink, the feminine,
Blue the tranquil,
Yellow, the enlightened,
And white, the wise.
Joining hands with the whole spectrum,
I celebrated my birth, my presence, my wisdom.
I suddenly wondered,
The purpose of my presence,
The conspicuousness of my blushy vermilion.
While I ponder,
The tenderness in me shook for a while,
A tiny dew drop was the reason behind.
The transparent crystal appeased my soul,
The breeze when complimented,
The tranquility deepened more,
The sun then showed its gleaming eyes,
Making my presence, wanting to adore.
Suddenly, I heard a buzz at a distance,
The buzz that broke my silent exuberance.
Scared of the motion, I made a loud cry,
But it bowed to venerate my blushy side.
Humbly it spoke: “I mean no harm little rose,
I am here to taste the sweetness of your soul,
The striking crimson and scent that you possess,
Pulled me here, to adorn your beauty and to confess,
That you’re the God’s most magnificent creation,
Made to glue the hearts, the vision, the affection,
The symbol of romance, desire and joy,
The only symbol of LOVE and passion”.
Now I understood the reason behind,
My existence in this beautiful life,
Am the Love, am the joy,
Am being made to make hearts join.
Am a flower amongst the plenty many,
With an exceptional identity of my own,
Am the FLOWER,
Am the LOVE,
Am the ROSE!
Mother is not a word but a Story itself.. .not just a person but a whole world in herself .
Nature is almighty. Nature is featureful.
A poem dedicated to my own self. .