”This
is our season”,
The
field of flowers declared to the wind,
Brimming
with flourishing bouquets,
Flaunting
every colour of the rainbow,
With
divine spilling over the terrain.
The
sky revealed its sapphire kingdom,
When
birds and bees bustling to reap the riches,
Trees
relished the cool breeze blowing through their leaves,
And
proudly exhibite the fruits that hung from every branch.
A
tiny lavender flower blossoming in the midle of the acreage,
Stood
isolated, flaunting a splendour no other can compare,
The
narrow stem poised upright, with her bulb flowering,
Revealing
an ocean of colours interweaved into four identical petals.
”She
may have been small”,
But
her love and beatitude extended her beyond the field,
With
those around her basking in the warmth of her radiating beauty,
And
admiration for the tenderness she bestowed upon others.
There
was a time however, when alone she did stand,
With
only her heart confronting the demons of loneliness and melancholy,
Perpetually
seeking answers to why the spirit to live has forsaken her,
Alone
she bared the guilt of failure,
Burying
deep her vulnerability.
An
empty heart is very hollow,
And
the lifeless beating of your heart,
Will
grant you no kinship or tranquility,
To
extinguish those fires of condemnation.
Then
was a cold winter night,
When
the sky bared its enigmatic darkness.
Thunder
and lightning descended upon the field,
With
the wrath of its tempest released.
Rains
saturated the land,
As
our Elysian fields were engulfed by darkness.
Being
so small and fragile,
The
lavender flower which once stood
So
tall and ful of life,
Now
lay slumped, buried în a puddle of rainwater.
As
the rays of life brought a new day,
Filled
with enchantment and vivacity,
The
flowers and trees bowed to the centre of the field,
With
their tears of farewell flowing into the veins of the earth,
For
the sacrifice that was made,
To
show us the path to contentment and inner peace.
2003
Redat:
2024
De
la Biblioteca ”Mihai Eminescu” N.S.W
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