White Rose

November 6, 2007
In her mind shined a beautiful thought,
She was in a deep world of concentration
Where ideas bloomed and grew.

Standing in a field, her hair like soft petals,
She paused and remembered past memories like they were yesterday.
Things were different now, though.
Things have grown and things have died.
The wind blew once more, softer this time and brisk.

Off to run, but the thought of a nearby ocean
Calmed the intense breathing of exhaustion.
The air smelled of fresh pollen through her prickly nose.

Reaching the end, she smiled in happiness.
Her legs were beginning to fail
Falling like a sad leaf.
The colors of the world became dazed.

It was time to go home this time
And return to what she needed most.
Trapped feelings were spinning, and her heart jumped.
Her life was coming and going, whether she agreed or not.
Why was everything so complicated
Why couldn’t she be five years old again?

She waited again, in slow thought this time.
The thorns of life were being cut from beneath her.
It was time to grow and start over.
Just like a flower, she was blooming.

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