A Winter Rose

You searched all ends of the worlds for a rose that would survive the the harshest of winter. How happy you were when you finally found it ! You nourished and nurtured it, gave it the best of conditions – prayed that it would spring forth and bloom into its beautiful self even in the hardest and longest of all seasons. I remember how delighted you were when it withstood the icy gale and the bitter frost of early December which stripped all trees bare and buried the last few remnants of autumn under thick blankets of snow. The winter rose unfurled its petals one day at a time and became lovelier than ever, its edges gathering silvery frost – and reflecting the feeble light peering through the snow laden branches of the dark and silent woods.

I confess that I am afraid. Afraid that it is one of your fleeting moments of endearment that will wither away at the earliest sign of Spring. And though I add cheer to your dark days, oftentimes, I wonder if you will cherish me once the bright warm sunshine fills your heart and the scent of a thousand flowers awakens you from the boredom and despair of the cold gloomy months. I know that my frigid and frozen body would forever yearn the touch of your warm embrace, longing to be a part of your life that is no longer dismal and severe but filled with laughter, gaiety and merriment.

Soon, the bleak days will deepen and darken – and while I wait and watch the weary earth enter into a long wintry repose, I shall continue to be your perfect companion – sit right where you planted me – endure and blossom.