it is like having a soft, delicate flower fall from a tree blanketed in small flowers of the same kind in spring,
feeling it dwindle slowly and contently in the wind,
wandering past your heart,
and finally resting lightly to float on the clear surface of the river that is your soul.
it is there, in the peaceful lagoon of your existence,
that this flower will lay to rest,
content with the warmth it spread through your body on its journey to its new home in all that is your happiness.
this flower shall never die,
shall never shrivel,
for the liquid of your soul is too pure and untouched,
thus giving its cleansing and warming affect a longevity and beauty that few have experienced and can describe.
