When the rosebuds came in bloom
In an instant,
it returns to me.
Searching for rosebuds,
I hold a white pearl in my hand,
but all I find is the bees nectar.
How many magnifiers will bring me back?
The spring is softer,
than the autumn storm.
In each drop,
I see a divine reflection,
while human lives,
haunt me in my dreams.
If acceptation is a short road,
why then have I run for miles?
If I could escape my biggest nightmare,
I could catch the bubbles in the sea.
My road has been too long,
I can feel the angels watching me,
and a million wings strike across my face.
Then at the hand of the Father,
that the white pearl in my hand,
has gently changed me,
when the rosebuds came in bloom.