Untitled (a single rose in the pond)

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With memories of our beginning
                     kissed by the sun,
   I made my way towards
               a single rose in the pond.

What sweet conjecture
                      that fades and glows, 
 seems to align those
                who can bear its thorns,
 and soon the skies were filled
                                        with heron.
I watch as weeping willows
                        embrace the ground,
  now as its the utmost
                             ebb of the night.
  I smile and heave
                            most gentle sigh,
  upon gossamer clouds
                        with a searching eye.
Was it impulse or wisdom
                             stringing us along,
I thought as I observed
                  a single rose in the pond.

 

Photo credits: Tanya Marcuse

Posted for ‘Tuesday Platform’ @ Real Toads

and on Monday Writes @ My Blog – Verses

verses

30 thoughts on “Untitled (a single rose in the pond)

  1. Old Egg says:

    It is an artist indeed or even a poet that can see the beauty of a discarded rose in a pond. Often we are obsessed with perfection isn’t like that for it brazenly shows the full circle of life. Your poetry always has another level of understanding Sanaa.

  2. kaykuala says:

    Was it impulse or wisdom
    stringing us along,
    I thought as I observed
    a single rose in the pond.

    A single rose can trigger off lots of questions only to one who is observant!

    Hank

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