Tuesday, May 8, 2007

The Rose

I can see desire in your eyes-
For a white rose
With its unfurled petals
Gently reaching for you.

This flower's fragrance
Is a wandering agent of seduction
And its stem
Thrusts life toward you.
Your hand reaches,
Not with grace, but desperation,
As if you fear it will soon disappear.

Your fingers blindly dance around its thorns
Pulling the bloom close to you.
Suddenly ecstasy fades and disappointment rages.
The blossom is not really white, not pure,
But yellow and imperfect.
Your heart sinks. How can this be?
Fantasy is pruned by reality.

No longer do you find life in its stem,
Beauty in its petals,
Safety in its wholeness.
Your warm breath of passion
Has turned to a cold wind of death.

The rose withers and dies,
But only in your mind.