Poetry
What is a Rose
What is a Rose?
If you were to ask a botanist they might ask in return what kind of Rose.
If you were to ask an artist, a symbol of love in it’s softness and beauty along with the biting thorns that their flowers grow from.
If you were to ask a child they might say, that.
If you were to ask Walt Whitman, he might say the bud of my soul exposed on the vine along with my kins; all unique. Some with their petals closed, not ready yet to blossom into maturity. Others braggadocios and proud or silently confident. Some weathered from time and disease.
Maybe that’s not exactly what he would have said, but I could see the idea.
If you were to ask me I’d say I don’t know. Not as an excuse to not think about the idea, but because a rose has an air of mystery. Something that requests not to be defined, and to see it fully, that must be honored.