The powers of the earth are like roses, I suppose. I would imagine each part involved is a delicate flower, although they are all a different color, shade, or texture than the others; some a drastic contrast while some a suffice compliment. They each were deployed at a different time and in their own way and will end for one reason or the other, but the ones with will to live will last the longest.1
Roses. What some lack in beauty or location are bountiful in other things. They know the seasons and when the frosty winter breaks their spirit; the birds sing their sweet songs and give them the strength to live through the distressing excitement ahead. They are the first to grow, desiring to be as sturdy as they once were.2
Some roses like the company of others; they bunch and flock together in bushes like a Band of Brothers. They share the elements: the soft rains, the gentle breezes, and the radiant light. They maintain a common bond and share a piece of themselves to create the next generation, hoping it will live longer, stand taller, and look more beautiful than they did. Others have a quiet individual beauty. They are set in one place, its’ distance allowing its’ inner influences to not be clouded by outsiders.3
But always, for whatever reason, they become too intertwined and the gentle breeze that once swept between them becomes a strong wind; brushing them against each other, rubbing them the wrong way and causing their thorns to damage and scratch and break away to their cores… till there is nothing left but salty tears and broken pride.4
There are many who justify this, claiming the pollen will spread as fast as gossip-like wildfire, and the news of it all wont allow the same thing to happen to others. They wont allow the same wind to cause that declaration of hate. But when the petals fall like casualties; one by one they drop and its love is lost, and can’t be replaced. The gardens never are the same, and no matter how many new flowers bud to start everything anew, it never is the same. There is no forgetting a war of roses.5
Author notes
i had to write something about war and associated roses with it, so this is how it went...
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
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Interesting...and well put together. Not to begin a philosophical argument with you about war or even just conflict, but so many young people seem to have acquired a 'pasifist' mindset and a righteous hatred of war.
Like it or not, the very nature of man, is conflict and competition. It begins early as we always seem to want the toy the other person has, even as a toddler.
We compete for boyfriends and girl friends in early school and for mates later in life. We compete for jobs.
Through this competition, the 'best' goes on to reproduce and in the long/short history of mankind, we have been on an upward trend, even though with many ups and downs.
To eliminate strife and conflict, even war, would be to remove the incentive for life itself.
As I said, like it or not, we are what we are and we be bad. Smiles....amicus... thank you for sharing your work...
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thanks so much for reading my write!
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Beautiful!
The last line was a master's stroke. I could never imagine such a write about roses. It is very unique and original, and seems to have a poetic touch which I admire beyond anything in prose (and can never create in mine, despite all efforts).
There are little apostrophe-related errors in the write, but I've decided to stop pestering people with my grammatical prudishness anymore
Just because I'm a grammer-and-spelling freak doesn't mean the rest of the world have to be!
Cheers and hope,
Mandy
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