Budding
and not knowing
how the jasmine heart
was ticking, and beating
What was going on
in the world at that moment
besides budding?
Oh how the jasmine
would like to stay as white
always yearning
for the lasting...
No matter how the flower kept silent
it keeps dwelling
in some color
in a sky in a world of its own
in the meaning of memories
when there was nothing
then risen and suddenly blooming
and certainly not knowing
why, or where, or
whom will hold it in the end
whose hand?
which blessing?
Budding..
The essence of existence..
Hold on to your internal beauty and allow the buds to grow more and more
Bless U
Iyad
"and certainly not knowing
why, or where, or
whom will hold it in the end
whose hand?
which blessing?"
Maysoun, it is not for us to know
just be - This is beautiful!
Keep writing - keep being jasmine.
Nice and neat. I enjoyed reading it.