If I cry, what am I crying for?
For me or for you?
Is it the situation or time? For me there is no rhyme...

But I see a pattern, this keeps on happening.
I can't explain it.
I don't understand it.

I just cry...but why?

I look inside, see a glimpse and sigh.
Why do I cry?

Am I crying today, for the same things as yesterday?
I shrug to myself and say...I don't know why, I cry, I really hope I'm not still crying on the day I die.

On this day
48 years ago
I incarnated
Arrived, was born

Some might say
My existence began
But I know
That's not the whole of it

I may have been born
But my life
Just like yours
Has always been

It is energy, pulsating
Vibrating, waving
Manifesting in countless ways
Always existing

And you and I have travelled together
In lifetime after lifetime
Brought together
In this moment

To celebrate
Our eternity

I used to long for you
even when I knew,
I didn't belong to you.

Only if you knew
how much I
torture myself
to be with you
“just as a friend.”

They were so perfect and bright
when I got them that night.
                      Their beauty amazed me;
                       they were such a sight.
He placed them in my hand
and we smelled them together.
                        "Like these roses," he said, "we will last forever."
As time went on,
they roses began to fade.
                         Their beautiful red, pink and white
                         became a lonely grey.
Their rich, full form slowly began
to dwindle.
                           Their large, open petals
                           soon began to shrivel.
They dried up slowly
and one by one they fell,
                            leaving their beauty just a story to tell.
But what about us?
What will we leave behind?

                             Stories about roses that have
                                     dried up and died?