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It's currently nightfall.
The sky is like a pitch black movie screen,
With a sprinkle of stars scattered across the gorgeous night sky.
The sounds of trucks and cars gliding along the concrete roads are perceptible,
Despite being hidden by the fence that separates my backyard and the open world,
Sleeping soundly on the opposite side.
It smells of greenery's raw essence,
The shrubs and mint plants snoring,
Dreaming of unexpected summer rain showers.
There are pauses in between the car’s clamour,
Where the world is completely silent,
And I feel nothing but my breath to accompany me amongst a peacefully sleeping Earth.
The air begins to feel chilly,
And my cheeks lose their warmth with my palm against them.
The streetlights flicker and blink their tiresome eyes as a plane with red and yellow lights hovers over the night sky.
I stare at it in awe,
Almost like a UFO was spotted,
Loaded with foreign aliens,
Visiting Earth for the first time.
Suddenly the stars begin to fade,
The shimmer above blends with the dim black sky,
Then like a distant nightmare,
The sky erupts of tears.
I feel the tickle of a midnight down pour soaking my face.
As I hurriedly dash towards my porch door,
I stop to admire the dazzling scene of a summer night.
A beautiful black bear,
Its fur, as dim as nightfall,
And its face like the midnight moon,
A shaft of light and never ending hope.
It wanders amongst a forest,
Ringed by greenery of the landscape.
The birds overhead chant an alluring melody,
As the bear merrily strides by,
Beneath their wings of hopeful life.
The evergreen saplings giggle,
As the bear of pitch darkness enters a deluge,
An enchanting stream of eternity.
With its fangs as sharp as the glow from the miday sun,
It garners a salmon,
Splashed with a hue of flushed raspberries.
After devouring a salmon from the nearby glistening stream,
It gobbles on hundreds of ripe berries,
Whilst grinning at the beaming sun, Soaking in its rays of gorgeous light.
It smiles at the scene of Mother Nature,
Like a treasurable painting displayed in a museum,
Stripes of hope by paintbrush bristles.
Sensing a gust of wind create ripples in the water,
With trees dancing and butterflies pirouetting,
The beautiful black bear feels content,
To be within a scene of nature.
Thank you mother Nature.
Tired of gripping onto patience,
Ambling close together with a venomous being,
Chained by handcuffs,
And forced to never let go.
Against the boundaries we possess,
And the buckets filled with tears,
We dauntlessly decide to flee.
Escaping from our tormentors,
A scheme to be cleansed from toxicity.
But at the curb of our trail,
After sprinting for several nights,
We give up at the peak.
A starlight glow,
Beautiful but maddening,
A gleam of sabir,
Blocks our way.
We’re compelled to turn around,
And walk back home to our tormentors.
No matter what we do,
It will always end with sabir.
Manacled my left hand to yours once more,
And striding side by side again,
It will always end with that one word,
What her name ends with too,
Held firmly in our right hand.
The ravishing rose,
Is my journey’s end.
With its rosy flushed petals,
I long for peace,
From all the blessings of the enchanting shrub.
Running for miles,
Until I catch sight of it,
The ravishing rose.
At last I’ve found my inner bliss,
A rest for my soul to breathe.
As my expedition concludes,
And my destination lies in front of me,
I face the rose,
I died so long to touch.
But every time I come close,
And lay a hand on my purpose,
I always get hurt by the thorns.
Blemishes cover me,
They write over me like broken-hearted words from woeful poetry.
They poke at my soul,
Nudging me away,
Away from that rose,
I ventured so long to touch.
The ravishing rose,
It bursts into laughter upon seeing me,
And cleverly informs me,
That I can’t attain the beauty my soul seeks,
Without a test to wound me along the way.
The rose snickers as it catches a glimpse of my palms smeared with blood,
Scarred by its thorns.
You cannot grasp a beautiful rose,
Without getting hurt,
By its thorns.
One day,
I’ll be there.
Amidst a wave of hundreds of men and women,
A mingle of foreigners and natives,
Standing on green meadows of turf,
Gazing in wonder at the alluring Eiffel Tower.
Daydreaming of appetizing French bagels,
Whilst carrying sacks filled to the brim of brightly coloured macaroons,
And saying things like “j'aime beaucoup la France”,
And “une autre baguette s'il vous plait”!
Sensing a slight breath of wind heave me away,
I’ll be drawn back by the classical folk melody blessing the air.
The Eiffel Tower will stand vigorously,
Though I’ll persist to collapse every time I catch a glimpse at the winsome sight.
Pointing at the heavens,
Reminding me of where blessings fall from,
And dreams come true.
That little while my face will beam like a ray of sunlight,
My spirit will be in bliss,
And I’ll smile as I watch my fantasies become the truth,
Towering above me.
One day,
I’ll be there.
It drizzles of heavenly droplets,
Trickles of new perceptions fall breezily from the clouded sky above.
You aren’t menaced by a downpour of rain,
Though you clasp an umbrella in your palm.
You’re willing to let these riveting showers soak your face,
And with a welcoming outlook,
You clutch your umbrella upside down,
Cradling the open canopy in your arms like a newly born baby.
You watch your world in your palms,
As the torrent of rain creates a swimming pool inside of your umbrella.
These remarkable ideas,
Fill up your world.

You watch as the wild blue yonder fogs with a flurry of grey,
And the sky erupts a spill of rain.
You deem the drizzle to be threatening,
And so very infuriating.
You don’t long to be drenched,
By the rainstorm of clashing beliefs.
You’re pure from mismatching difference,
And through a sensation of fear,
You hastily carry your umbrella high.
It shields you from the surrounding world,
Swamped by the cloudburst.
Your world shelters you,
From everything that is unfamiliar.
The showers of jarring minds tumble from the sky,
Through unease you dismiss them with your own world,
Your shielding umbrella canopy,
And protect yourself from difference.

In the distance you see a figure,
Drenched by the sky’s showers.
She’s carrying her world upside down,
Filling it with the rain that plummets from the sky.
The figure smiles,
And her beaming expression speaks of joy.
Her open mind,
Lead her to happiness.
A little garden brimming with years of countless beauty.
The honeybees come to startle me,
With their bothersome buzzing a skip from my ears.
The eight legged ruthless spiders,
Block my path with their creative silky web display,
Dangling erratically in the air.
And the colourless moths that flutter so elegantly around the lawn,
They all make their way,
To my blooming tree.
With smiles as bright as the sun,
I twirl companionless surrounded by the greenery of the landscape.
Nature everywhere sways as my garden hose showers the leafy shrubs,
While a seagull soars overhead.
I soak my four foot tree in a downpour of immeasurable love,
And laugh in disbelief.
Eight years ago you were nothing to me but a dull dwarf sized sapling.
I couldn’t picture a bigger world,
Where life blooms and time changes everything,
I was only in the third grade.
I couldn’t envision ever growing up,
And sprouting dreamed-up wings of freedom.
I doubted Mother Nature and your leafy wings of potential,
But today you showed me,
The moments I long awaited.
The gift of patience,
Is falling in love with your once lifeless uncertainties,
And holding dear to each and every leaf on the evergreen trunk.
I learned to love in these eight years,
And that will always be the greatest gift.
The gift of patience,
Is worth lingering for.
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