Rose Lessons

This was a comment on a poetic post ( "Sleep of the Dying", by Braja of Lost and Found in India)



The Dream,
of a rose,
The petals flutter down,
softly,
Resting in the arms
of Mother Earth,
enriching it,
for another day;



What pervades
as it looks behind,
is,
a perfumed chorus
of the remaining petals,
who have learnt,
that to flutter down,
Means you rise up
To learn your lessons,
Again
and again,
another life,
another day.
Not a Sleep of the Dying
But a quiet Praise
of a wonderful Life...