after the twilight

will it work with a yellow marshmallow?

that black rose

in the middle of your chest

the gardener did not forget

just that neither the sun

nor the rain nor the clouds

nor the wind nor the earth

are what paints it red

the life in you,

young flower,

is a gift of Heaven...

and then you die

as all of our days are numbered.

but then again

by power of spirit, of faith,

the love that surrounds you

pouring out from strangers, from family, from friends,

will breathe in you a new life

that never before have you imagined.

out of the tears you shed

watch your pollens spread

and by wisdom gained

watch yourself blossoming again.

and by wisdom gained

remember who is the wiser

the butterfly who fluttered

or the bee who busily worked.

>>posted for jeren <<