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 it’s 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 Replies to “Untitled (a single rose in the pond)”

  1. 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. 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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