The softest petal of a rose
is the one that molds
its own virgin soul,
that’s closest
to its heart,

the warmth of birth,
is just a memory,
as it unfolds.

anxious to catch the light,
it doubts that darkness
can deride
the trace of scent,
it cannot hide.

life’s a sway into flight,
an ultra mystery
and the wind’s delight.

yet empty spaces cannot hold
lost colors in the fall.
as the softest petal of the rose
is passed in sequence
to dispose.