Life of a Flower
Bestowed life unto a flower
Knows its meaning better;
Plucked from its twig,
It yet lives on until its time.
I neither wish to be identified
My self with my name nor
Any trade nor vocation nor profession;
These are but many a location.
In every word I breathe out and in
In every word that I inscribe on sand
I write my epitaph in time to be wiped.
O friend, I share this thought in passing
But you can sure share my being.
© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.