The Flower Carpet

The Flower Carpet

A daily ritual of walking among plants and flowers,

On a clear morning rejuvenates the inner power,
Looking around, soaking in the green cover,
Ground sprinkled with white and orange petal shower.

Picking up the delicate beings,

Savouring the immense pleasure it brings,
Over many moons, you come to expect the daily colours,
Not for once imagining, a day without any flower.

Then one day the unthinkable happen,

Your power and spirits seems dampened,
The white and orange carpet vanished,
Not for just one odd day,
But many successive days, it’s banished.

Resilient as it is, the mind,

Restarts to empower itself with another find,
A different scene, to revamp the daily grind,
Enjoying the new, yet not forgotten the dainty kind.

Suddenly in the morning sunshine, the eyes behold,

A familiar carpet of white and orange, retold,

The parent plant acknowledges your presence,

Bringing forth feeling intense.

Admiring nature’s numerous ways to nurture,

You realise every day is not of the same nature,

Sun sets and rises to put forth a new persona,

Each day has to be perceived with a new manoeuvre.