Once upon a time, I found a rose. Was it for me? I thought so.

I picked it up and smiled. Just then some people passed me by and smiled at me as though they knew I had just been given something truly wonderful and they shared in my delight.

That rose I found did not fade. And if it had, what would that say? If words were made of light, the light would never go away.

And the days pass by like so many pages falling from the calendar, a tree with leaves that fall and grow again from some unvisible realm that stays the way it is even as it becomes and is born into this moment.

I want to share in the birth of the world, a great and wonderful birth that I could delight in for eternity. Then I would see that rose as I handed it to someone or left it at their feet to find one day and remember what it is that knows how to make a tree out of a seed, to know that need that fills a cloud with rain or the moon with love.

I look for that rose all the time. I fancy it may have as many forms as can be. it made me look; it made me see.

it is passing now and it is gone, the seed or some eternal song i listen for, imagining I can hear what it hears or the dream that i adore

life...no...not life...a feeling that slips beneath my gaze and slips through fingers like starlight and all the questions and all the answers mingling in the aspiration of the one who could give all this love away and smile...

once upon a time, this was a dream... a flower dropped into a stream.

where does it go from here?