Roses, White Roses

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  • Life

    Roses, White Roses

     Small buds rise from nowhere.
    As it grows, each petal becomes darker.
    Time passes. The coldest winters it must bear.

    Each year, it continues to spiral. But soon, nothing is left.
    We now know that life is not eternal.

    Then, later, it is reborn. It stays under His eyes from night to morn....

                                                  Waiting For His Word!

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    onyxprince commented on Roses, White Roses

    05-24-2009

    A true statement of life being reborn. Nothing is forever but everything can be rebirth. Very good ready.
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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