A Rose
-Mridara

In a place far away
a place so secluded
a place man didn't know as yet
Here creation had been sustained in its original beauty
In this paradise
A rose came into being
A rose that was blessed with the blackness of space
A rose whose purity burned through whiteness
Never blooming in the light.
But in the misty dark,
She raised her head in majesty
To behold the world,
Unseen by anyone.
When the moon touched her velvette petals,
They blossomed,
Breathing in the blackness with sprays of moonlight
Even when dark clouds ate the moon,
The bloom still survived,
feeling,
seeing,
knowing
in the inky darkness,
hugging on to the humble night.

- 7 / 2 / 2008