(no subject)
Just a simple rose. . .
Here we are back again, back to the beginning. The beginning where we are beautiful and our hearts are new and so alive. Like spring a new wind blows that makes us dance like the flowers in the breeze. Springing from the ground, our foundation. So plain and ordinary, like a rose bud until it blooms. Blossoming, becoming more and more beautiful each and every day as our colors grown brighter, our hearts grow warmer. Every cloud that ever blocked the way disappears bringing the summer birds. So free, free to fly away but still, for some reason beyond our comprehension they stay, stay behind in this place that they find so familiar keeping us, the new born rose company for we are rooted to the ground. Stuck in this place so lovely yet so ugly, this place that we call life. It brings us great sorrow to see the birds fly as we cry like rain flooding our beauty knowing that that we cant fly away to. Weeping at the thought of being a rose forever. Like leaves in the fall we wither away with every tear we shed wishing that we could be something more, something greater with greater worth. driving every light, every joy that we have ever known away. Afraid that we will never see the angel in the sky that we call sun again looking down upon us. sadness grows greater, our petals. . .memories fall on the ground around us. The ground being the only comfort we ever know, such a firm foundation, never changing, always something we can rely on, but still the one thing that holds us down, keeps us from being so much more. Blinded by our pain like we are under a blanket of snow in the winter. not able to see the true and utter beauty of a rose. The rose is the most beautiful of all. The symbol of love and great emotion. Bringing joy into the most broken of hearts. The power to heal and love. The sun comes again drying every tear, mending every crack. Blossoming again, lovely again. Now happy to be one simple rose even if we cannot fly away we still bring the greatest of all beauties to the world. Through our pain and suffering comes great wisdom and great beauty. In the end the light will always come again. So here we are back again, back to the beginning. The beginning where we are beautiful and our hearts are new and so alive. . .
Here we are back again, back to the beginning. The beginning where we are beautiful and our hearts are new and so alive. Like spring a new wind blows that makes us dance like the flowers in the breeze. Springing from the ground, our foundation. So plain and ordinary, like a rose bud until it blooms. Blossoming, becoming more and more beautiful each and every day as our colors grown brighter, our hearts grow warmer. Every cloud that ever blocked the way disappears bringing the summer birds. So free, free to fly away but still, for some reason beyond our comprehension they stay, stay behind in this place that they find so familiar keeping us, the new born rose company for we are rooted to the ground. Stuck in this place so lovely yet so ugly, this place that we call life. It brings us great sorrow to see the birds fly as we cry like rain flooding our beauty knowing that that we cant fly away to. Weeping at the thought of being a rose forever. Like leaves in the fall we wither away with every tear we shed wishing that we could be something more, something greater with greater worth. driving every light, every joy that we have ever known away. Afraid that we will never see the angel in the sky that we call sun again looking down upon us. sadness grows greater, our petals. . .memories fall on the ground around us. The ground being the only comfort we ever know, such a firm foundation, never changing, always something we can rely on, but still the one thing that holds us down, keeps us from being so much more. Blinded by our pain like we are under a blanket of snow in the winter. not able to see the true and utter beauty of a rose. The rose is the most beautiful of all. The symbol of love and great emotion. Bringing joy into the most broken of hearts. The power to heal and love. The sun comes again drying every tear, mending every crack. Blossoming again, lovely again. Now happy to be one simple rose even if we cannot fly away we still bring the greatest of all beauties to the world. Through our pain and suffering comes great wisdom and great beauty. In the end the light will always come again. So here we are back again, back to the beginning. The beginning where we are beautiful and our hearts are new and so alive. . .