The sight of the trees here, their aroma warms up my heart. This ground feels so familiar, it’s almost like I’m walking down my imagination. She reflected.
I never want to be away. I never want to be out of the warm embrace of these bushes. I wish I could open the doors to my heart, the same way this forest has opened its doors for me. How? It had been a long walk. Through the garden, through the cactus land, here is where I am now.
Do you see the trees bowing the passageway? It’s almost like they just parted to make way for you. The ground, trees, bushes they all worked in harmony to let you in. They are bowing now, in submission. Their beauty is at the disposal of your adornment. They await your response, vulnerable, shy, tender hearted.
Part the trees now sweetheart, you know it’s time.
What do you think of when you think of the universe?
An atom. Splattering into billion tiny spheres, then combining into millions of forms. Only to eventually submerge into each other. Unify into that one magnificent Atom again. That’s all there is to it. The entire process of being existing between the acts of splitting and unifying.
And I, One tiny being among million others is rotating in my sphere waiting for the unification.
*He is long bones now. But his words still resonate in this universe. He said, and I quote “If one day I’m given a moment in solitude with you. I will trample the two worlds underfoot and dance forever.”
These roses are so perfect. Red as blood, sharp as memories. I can’t help but wonder what is worth the adornment of these lush flowers?
Tell me now, if you could, would you peek inside? Would you like to discover that which they hide? Its like the roses are stuck here forever, bewitched by love and bound by mortality. They have owned the window, claimed it as one of their own. All for that which resides inside.
No. He replied in his resolute tone. Looking in another direction.
Why not? She complained. You’re not even paying attention.
He looked towards the window and replied cautiously, What if we went inside just to peek and the vines never let us out? What if the roses grow around us? We’ll be stuck there forever.
He firmly gripped her hand and they continued walking.
Atleast we’ll know what the roses fell in love with, and never recovered.