Wild Rose

Winter has come, way to soon

The cold has settled on the leaves

Frozen the wild rose, in its bloom

The deep red flower, once so warm

Stands white and pale now, but still beautiful

Goodbye wild rose, we could not shelter you

but I wish I could have known how

The winter came to you

Goodbye wild rose, we could not shelter you

But I wish I had cared enough

To see your life was leaving you

The summer will come, but far too late

The cold has withered away the leaves

Sun do not awaken, the rose that died in it’s bloom

No more shall the world know, what once lived here

Touched by the hand of death, but still beautiful


You know how birthdays matter more when you are kids? How you know when your friends are born, because you have to know when they turn a year older and either get to be older than you, or as old as you?

I have two birthdays, I still remember, both of them in November. One of them is the girl I usually refer to as my twin sister. The other is Janis. She would have been 32 today.

I know when my other friends are born, if I’m hard pressed I might even remember a few dates of my family members without looking it up on face book, but these two, I never forget. I am guessing it is because I learned these dates when I was a child. When it mattered. When it was important, what time of the year Janis turned 16 because of how long she would get to compete with her pony. Those kinds of things.

Now, this date, will haunt me forever. Janis never got to be 32. Or 30. Or even 25. But on this day, 32 years ago, was born one of the most wonderful persons I have ever been blessed with having in my life.

The priest asked us at the funeral, if we would have rather not known Janis, and thus escaped the pain of losing her. I still remember that, as if it was yesterday. And the answer is still no. My life would have been much emptier without her smile. Even if I only got to know that smile for a handful of years.

Happy birthday, my wild rose. –  You are beautiful, like a star. But this world has seen a thousand stars, and only one of you. 


About Starstone

-Owned by horses. Writer, Photographer, Director, Musician.
This entry was posted in Dark Mare Pictures, Poetry/ Songs /Art and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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