View From My Window
The Rose
How do you
describe a rose, how do you speak of something
so beautiful? This I ask you. I can think of
very little to say.
How can you give something
a name when there is
no name to give? How can you?
This I ask, this I must know.
I see a river. It chuckles on
its banks as a fish swims joyfully in it.
I let the rose fall from my hand. A breeze
carries it away. Suddenly,
on the breeze, I hear
the sound of the rose drifting to the ground,
then the wind picks it up,
bright and sure, a
symbol of all things strong and pure.
describe a rose, how do you speak of something
so beautiful? This I ask you. I can think of
very little to say.
How can you give something
a name when there is
no name to give? How can you?
This I ask, this I must know.
I see a river. It chuckles on
its banks as a fish swims joyfully in it.
I let the rose fall from my hand. A breeze
carries it away. Suddenly,
on the breeze, I hear
the sound of the rose drifting to the ground,
then the wind picks it up,
bright and sure, a
symbol of all things strong and pure.
Comment On This Poem ---
The Rose
The Rose
