Treading so softly
she tip toes
lest my desires awaken
while rapidly the river of time flows.
A rose petal that fell
off a branch riddled with thorns
bruised and injured, it sobbed alone
and floated down.
To rest finally on the cold moist ground
shivering in its loneliness
a wonder that it still is
a pleasure to hold close!
The innocence of grapes,
as they enter this world,
to get crushed and trampled
as they lose bits of their souls.
Their heavenly sweetness
faces rigors of existence
some turning into a heady wine
while others sour and embittered.
But people are not grapes,
raisins or roses!
As life squeezes innocence out of us
we do get sour, and even bitter
But do we really lose that divine sweetness,
that awaits patiently within the core of our souls
To be born, again, as a fresh new little being, again and again?