"Art is a mouthpiece.
When all reason begins to fail.
Where does it come from?
Is it the rain of sadness or is it the pain?
Is it grieve slowly pouring in droplets?
Or is it trauma roaring like flames?"
- "What if l were an art ?"
"Hearts and Chao...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
If I am to die one day, bury me
Under the Frangipani tree.
Do not cremate me
Nor place me in a lidded coffin.
Let me lie down under the soil
Knowing that my body will be free.
Surrounded by the roots
Protected by the gentle tree.
Let the flowers bloom every spring
Delicate, soft and round.
This is where my heart shall live
Sacred among the earthen ground.
Let the fragrance of its sweetness
And its simplicity be my eternal bed.
This is where my mind shall sleep.
A final place to rest my head.
Let my spirit beunited
With the resilient tree.
Its strong branches will remind me
To fight when the storm is raging.
If l die, let me buried
Under the Frangipani tree.
Let my soul become alive again
Intermingled into its essence deep.
If I am to be alive again,
Let this be my only dream
To be born once again
As the Frangipani tree.
___________________________________
______________________________
Dear Readers,
Thank you for reading this poem.
In my hometown, my school ground used to have Frangipani trees and I loved playing around them.
I wrote this poem one morning after waking up to find a few of the Frangipani flowers strewn on my bedside table. It was my husband who left them there as a surprise and the smell of the fresh flowers woke me up with delight.
A questionto my dear readers:
What are your most favourite flowers and why do you love them?
Let me know in the comments.
If you like this poem, please don't forget to vote.
