|
By j. knipp Date: 2003 May 07 Comment on this Work [[2003.05.07.00.42.25632]] |
|
A rose, so splendid, so breathtaking, evoking emotions like impassioned lava springing from the mountain's mouth, Only to crystallize in its zenith, just to catch that one overwhelming moment of blossomed red. Nothing could halt that instant of intensity. Though nature is an indifferent inexorable beast pressing on, and behind it that rose will fade; its volcanic petals will lose their luster. Thus roses die. People grow apart. Yet the shell of the rose, a blackening but still fair skeleton of beauty will remain to remind us of what passion is. And each rose should be enjoyed to its fullest. Every lovely moment should be grasped, cherished, pressed against ones bosom tightly as a mother holds a child. Do not lament on what shall come to pass. Most assuredly lament when it has arrived at your irrevocably begotten path of providence. To mourn the future is to deny the rose's existence now. |