Once it stood
shining,
vibrant,
radiant,
its brilliance
beautifying the surroundings.

But now,
after a minutely short existence,
it is
changing,
aging,
dying.

Each tender, silky-white petal
turns to a rusty brown,
then silently breaks away
and falls
peacefully,
gently,
to the ground.

As I watch helplessly,
I frown,
knowing
that soon
it will all be
over.

I love it when it's raining here in Burundi 🇧🇮.

I love how everything becomes quiet just before.

           The birds 🦚 sing no more
           The trees 🌴 become still

You can feel the anticipation, the thrill...

It's like the living stop to breathe before takin' every drop in 🌱.

The last of the fools
Has been exposed;
I'll look no further
Than the end of my nose.
The glass has flipped
It's me I see.
The last of the fools;
Flip one,
You'll see.