NEW POETIC ORDER

I like flowers.

A piece of mother nature

there,

in my room,

wilting away.

Day by day,

dying,

beauty in all its glory,

and the grandeur of life,

in a summation 

of petals, sepals,

stalks and leafs,

dying.

But,

It’s beautiful

So beautiful,

Even though,

Even though it is dying.

We’re all dying- beautifully.