I am a rose with petals falling
As soft as velvet
While a boat rocks
Back and
Forth,
Swaying to an impossibly luscious, yet a silent song.

The petals fall,
Gliding into a neat pile,
Unused but sitting worn out,
As if they were just sent cascading,
Wishing luck at a party,
A wedding,
A funeral.
The petals shiver at the thought.
It was not a good idea to think that way now.
The wind caresses the petals
And carries them far,
Far from where they were drowning in memories.
They were no longer old and forgotten.

As the wind carries them along,
The petals listens to--
And adds to--
The silent song
That everyone listens to every day
Without hearing its sweet harmonies.
That is why it is silent--
Except to the rose.
But the melody is still soft
And wanting to fade away,
Just like the rose did,
Until the wind retrieved it from invisibility.
The wind twirls the rose and the petals dance to the silent music.

When the wind is gone,
The petals fall to the floor again:
Abandoned,
Invisible,
Forgotten.
But the silent music still plays and the invisible petals dream of dancing.