Three Roses
You came into this world on a Tuesday, and left it again on a Monday. 7 days of the week, a life fully lived.
As we move through life, we count minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years as if it really matters. You knew that it didn’t. It was never about the time counted, but the time spent.
You lived for 23 years until you found love. Or was it really love or just an idea of what love is? You dreamed about love like one does about fairy tales. And you didn’t want to settle for less than true love and the ideal of what a life should be. You checked the boxes, marriage, children, dog, house, car, nice things. But was it enough? Did that make you happier? Make you live in the present? No. Because life isn’t like a fairy tale, you learned. So you started living in denial. Denial because life hit you hard in your 30th year, and even harder in your 40s.
It made you bitter. Bitter because you hadn’t done anything to make it so. It gave you hate in your heart, and fear. But you refused to let the fear, hate, and bitterness win. So to make it better, you began a life of the imagination. Oh, and what a sweet dream that was. It was beautiful, like a rose garden, for the rose was your favourite flower. It just kept growing bigger and more abundant over the years. If only the world could see how truly breathtaking it was. Maybe then it would understand that you were made to make only the most exquisite things in this world grow. But the world couldn’t understand, for the rose garden didn’t really exist in it. The world which was slowly dying, one root, stem, flower and nerve at the time for you.
But you spent your time trying to keep it alive, despite all the toxicity that made it die. You tried because life is worth living when you have love in your heart. You fought valiantly, but the darkness and toxicity won in the end. Or so you would think. Because two roses stayed alive, and a new one was born. Out of your love, your life and your dreams. You are still here, and still making that rose garden grow, behind the scenes, as the true gardener you are, where eyes can’t see you but your presence is felt.
You came into this world on a Tuesday, and left it again on a Monday. 7 days of the week, a life fully lived.
