Like a rose…
Like a rose,
We sprout forth,
Emerge from
Our Mother, Earth.
Sometimes, We shimmer
under the bright sun,
Our gentle fragrance
emanates from all around.
But one day, near the end
of our short lives,
We find ourselves aged-
We have withered…
It’s all but
a short dream.
And just like that,
We are gone.
Anoush Krikorian, 1994
Anoush Krikorian’s “Like a rose”