Blushing

Rose petals drift on the wind blushing pink as they swirl in their soft descent, Tiny and bruised, they curl up as if to protect their inner, velvet, scent... Yet it also escapes on the rays of the sun, A testament of where they now lay. Like myself, a woman in a fetal position, bruised yet so full of life, Waiting for the spirit inside to find its escape. It wonders like a roaming gypsy, laughing and dancing around the fire under a brilliant and full silver moon, Manic chants cast gleefully to the magic on the air, Creating new energies to revive. Its essence of what I am about, deep within, runs deep into the forest of hopes as too not be captured in a dying pose again. "She" likens herself to the roar and guttural purrs of a she-cat there, A black panther with green, heavy-lidded eyes stalking new realities, Ready for a new beginning, she awaits her prey, Feline, and stretching and relishing the hidden cover of the dark mists, and her green nest she now crouches in. Fast, she pounces and grabs with long, hooked claws to life as it tries to evade, stopping it to fulfill her desires. Her enchantment has won new sight over again, forever within her to once again become one with myself, the woman curled up like the rose petals, and too be a part of me again. A new rosebud with its blushing pink petals, hold strong within the grasp of its newborn hull. Strong and reborn from the old, the seeds of the past, Yet still soft and appealing to open again to a new day.