A flower’s tale

                    A flower’s tale

 

Silent and pondering, to a garden I went,

My mind alert, muse high and gaze bent,

How come! The floral beauty thus grown,

On a supple shoot; to winds were blown.

 

My eyes riveted to a flower, near I drew,

On petal tips; smiled there lustrous dew,

The flower spoke itself out, ah wept a lot,

It danced in leisure, amid mystery caught.

 

“I smile with nature, bouncing scent in glee,

Ah a victim, to the victors on rampage free,

Insects, butterflies and bees to hover about,

Of the joyous kids around, to play and shout.

 

“Nature shalt slay; its dagger thru entire me,

My life to the seed and my nectar to the bee,

Play a tool in nature’s hands aye I wert made,

Soon I shalt pine away and mine beauty fade.

 

Withered, a day I’ll dropbe trodden upon,

My seeds back and forth, bestrewed on lawn,

Gone to the soil whither? I may know naught,

Crying tale of my life, wrapped in mystic knot

O nature’s cruel stance, wait moments a few,

And equip herself afresh, with the guiles anew,

Beneath the soil decipher my life in the seed,

Bring a shoot forth, the dormant embryo lead.

 

Run thru the rigors of life, time and again,

Of the sizzling Sun, the storm and the rain,

And bear the torment; every night and day,

In short I will lead again, the designed way.

 

Winds wilt wax ravenous and roam as before,

beauty shalt bloom again, spring from core,

Ah I was the lamentation of one with another,

Behold! A dear brutally severed from another.

 

How long this cycle shalt go? I never know!

Ah how long I shalt humbly stoop and bow?

Twert an enigma; so subtle and multi-faced,

I would just watch on; with my heart braced.”

 

He is the Chief and I, one of humble slaves,

Isolated on mountains; then thrive in caves,

This much ah no more; of mysteries I know,

I died as seed, grown to a shoot, then glow?”

 


By Dr. Riaz Ahmad, November 11, 2025

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