wildrose

 Not Quite, but Silenced Written, But not Read Tasty , but Left Over Not Aloof, but Rejected  Beautiful, But no Beholder Cheerful, But no Display Written, But not Read  Dreamer, But not Projected Singing, But no Song  Lovable, But no Lover Loving, But Hated  Honest, But Cheated  Fruitful but not Busy What I am is What I am  What I am not , Is I am to the world.

I am withering, Bees don't swarm me anymore, My aura and colors fading.. I am about to die, why did you pluck me? I was on a parched and waste land... But I had roots for my aid, Leaves and wind to support You stuffed me in this vase, beautiful Only for the eyes of the beholder Inside it is dark, lonely and stark.. I am thirsty, my soul yearns.. Quench my thirst, lest i die...

 He called me mom... Another called me love.. Applause, praises and cheers I was basked in glory... But they feared the world Their hearts were full, but mouths shut None abandoned their pride To make me their someone or own..

I met gods yesterday They were hungry, thirsty and weary No bounding spell, glory or glow It was on the fiery sands of wilderness I met them, lost their path and compass Their stare could pierce my soul Naked, oozing blisters on their soles No they are not humans, not even aliens They were Gods, for truth tore me They did or died, while I still Waited for the better or best.

Let the queen in you arise  Build your own empire  with every stone aimed at you May your hands always be giving and may your legs be like one of the deers, swift and bounding Not like the crow, bragging, and babbling but like an eagle soaring, and conquering May your barns be abundant and baskets full To meet drought and need that may arise Let your smile be the radiance, patience your virtue Silence be your gold and goodness your wealth Arise you, woman... rise from your fall Let your light shine; the world is waiting... Happy Women's Day

The seed thought .. I am in the ground for a while now, Broken, almost dead, ready for rebirth... But why is that I am not sprouting? Is there no more life left in me.? The seed asked the earth. Why is that I am not sprouting? Are you not fertile enough? The earth said with a frown.. " I am fertile and tilled on severely But need moisture for me to bear you.. Come lets call to the thickened clouds... Why are they not showering rain? This longing is weary and we are barren They called and there appeared a white one He seemed to glee, at the cry of the seed The cloud replied..there are thickened ones... black and full of rain, ready to burst. but the wind is not spreading his wings to carry us and give your land the bliss So they seed asked the gusty air... Won't you bring the showery clouds To make the land fruitful and wet? The wind hurled and grumbled; It is the Master who decides my way, Call upon him..He draws yours and my path...