My Desert Rose

By Pritha Lal
Springville, Utah, USA

I gently crushed a red rose in my palm,

To the distant dunes, I let the petals fly,

Desert wind, I said, Carry this fragrance far and wide,

Just leave the bloody thorns for me.

To which I heard a reply deep within,

As if the scorching wind now gently mocked me,

 

Petals and thorns are both yours to keep, it said,

Love and pain will both remain within thee,

To want one sans the other, is to ask for a night without a star

Know that even a wilted desert rose, spreads its fragrance from afar.