I sometimes wonder while I walk by, while looking at that boundless sky. I wonder if the life would be garden who would we be? would we be those flowers or mere weeds too nominal to see.
First I thought, could we be the rose, that I would pluck to be kept between the prose. whose fragrance would spread, would you like to be the black, yellow or the red??
Then I thought why the rose, its too common a flower, and I thought for over an hour. I thought and wind passed by with a dandelion seed, I pondered and thought its a mere weed.
Wait, maybe you we can just be the dandelions ,fulfilling each other's wishes and all the dreams, our love ,isnt't it like that even growing in the very exteremes. But then I thought we are not too fragile to be blown away just by the wind to the sky, our love is too strong, it will rise too high.
So dandelions? no we should we something else I think, suddenly a butterfly passed by giving me a wink. It passesd by and took me to the marigold, told me isn't this like you not too yound but neither too old.
I gave it a thought, maybe we could be the marigolds, golden, red , blooming and growing fold by fold. But as I lookked to the other end, I saw some flowers smiling at me, as if they were waiting for me to see.
Oh !! they were the sunflowers dancing in the wind facing the sun, And I instantly knew they were the one. We are like those sunflowers and that sun, too far away yet we are one..
I have so many stories to tell, of different taste feel and smell. Which one would you like go hear? Of someone far away or someone quite near?
Should I tell you the story of that young bride, who waits everyday by me , her tears she hide. for one can from her soldier husband, just a ring, sometimes she cries a lot, sometimes she just sings..
Or should I tell you the story of two lovers, two bodies but soul just one, She often waits for setting of the sun, comes by to hear his voice , I hear there secrets and keep then with me, I am secret keeper for then as you can see...
Or what about the story of that old mother who used to wait for a single call, even in extreme winters wearing her embroidered shawl. from her loved boy who now was too busy to remeber her now, He seemed to have forgotten her, I wish to tell her, make her understand but I still think how?
Should I tell you the story of that dark night, when it was pouring heavily ,it was love at first sight. The lovestory that began when they took shelter here that day, love was in their eyes, rain just became the way of fate should I say?
An old man sat deaf A dark creature flew by She shouted the curse He heard her, he won't lie You can ask the Lady Justice She saw her stopping by With cold blooded hands She touched the sky She painted the sky black You can ask the colourblind She killed them all The ones who showed her wry She had a kind heart You can ask the deaf man who died!