My Wholistic Life Poems - Wildwood

Wildwood amuse my wanderings,

as my thoughts can't stop pondering,

the trees and the flowers do charm me,

whilst in absolute indulgence,

the most beautiful rose I have encountered,

caught my eyes in divergence and scattered.

How pretentious of myself

to feel compelled to hold her,

when in wounds and tears I behold her,

as she is wilted and bend-neck.

And without restrain,

as her thorns and needles were just

waiting for me to put my hands on her,

the vital fluid of my bewilderment

simply stroke me.

I thought to myself:

why would you not tell me that you had

these thorns and needles?

Do you wish to hurt me?

How innocent and emotionally immature can someone be?

there is much more to heal within yourself

than you can do for me, said the rose.

Ashamed and resented I felt,

No one has ever reflected so much of myself,

Childish and unprepared,

Hopeful but unwise.

How blessed someone can be

For millions of roses I wish to see,

In this world of beauty,

I relentlessly wish to be,

Firmly wishful,

Persistent in my findings,

For the deserving merits of the just.

Wake up and smell the coffee,

As unpleasant as it can be,

You will never learn

If you are not longing to oversee.

The wise never stop their longings,

They never fail to follow through,

Because someday, somehow,

What is meant for me, will also be for you.

And when this day comes,

I will be anything but the rose that belonged to you.