Lately I have come across roses in my path, or perhaps they have always been there and I am just noticing now. They are of as many colors as one can imagine, serene yellows, explosive reds, insightful whites. You witness life as you walk by them, the essence of being without words.
My roses are people I know, and others I dont. They blossom around me and I feel Spring unfolding in the most mysterious yet obvious ways. They have fallen in love for a first, second, or third times. Their tears of happiness run down their souls just like dew embraces petals in the mornings, a beauty that cant be contained and explodes to reach every passerby. We are all contagious blossoming selves.
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