By Dahlia Tera

When I will no longer find
The right words to write to you;
When they will seem me
Too much usual and ordinary
Not shining and meaningful enough;
When I will have searched
Smiling to myself, in my heart and in my mind,
But the sheet of paper will have remained blank…..

Then I will go walking on the hill paths
Or in the garden of the house
Where I will pick for you the most beautiful flowers.
They will gently talk to you
And their colored and fragrant silences
Will be like telling words.

There will be the passionate and energetic
RED of poppies, like sensual lips;
Like wedding joyful sari,
Like revolutionary blood.

There will be the tender and sweet
PINK of the rose;
Its gracefulness and delicate elegance
As a caress on your cheek.

There will be the exuberance of the sunflowers,
YELLOW, their lively smiles to the life,
Positivity, even in the clouds.

There will be the pale BLUE of the forget-me-nots,
Small and humble,
Awakening hopes and suggesting memories.

There will be the ORANGE marigolds.
Spirituality in Temples’ offerings;
Joyful garnishments in Buddhanath ,
Grief and mourning in Pashupatinath.

There will be the WHITE lilies and daisies,
For purity and simplicity,
Childhood candor where to immerse as you age,

GREEN leaves and stems, ups and downs, creepers,
Wide and narrow petals,
Round and pointed…
All different silent words offered by Nature,
Redolent loving song inside.

I would like to grow you a whole garden,
Where to pick flowers of all colors and shapes,
Making a bouquet for you
With the flowers-words, I was unable to say.
They will closely speak to you
Better than my clumsy words.

And if life is a passage,
Let’s sow in this passage
A lot of beautiful flowers-words.

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