It’s a long walk through life,
where lies the door to leave all behind.
The kindling hope to reach those fields someday is undeniably romantic; but,
A little unfair to the little flowers that bloom by the cornices and woodworks,
our long term and distant plans overlook.
Little bundles of joy, swaying in the little gusts of wind,
Factories of fragrance, blooming and bustling of life,
Serenity and if we call it, love.