My love will not wither awayLike the momentous beauty of a Rose,But I am the weed, no matter how much you pluck awayIt sprouts again and grows…”-(Precious Love)

What a strange thing!to be alivebeneath cherry blossoms.

Someday I will walk under the soul-blossom tree with my hand eternally woven in yours.

When the flower blossoms, the bee will come.

A poet is a verb that blossoms light in gardens of dawn, or sometimes midnight.

As the flower blooms in spring, compassion grows in mindfulness.

A fallen blossomreturning to the bough, I thought –But no, a butterfly.

Life blossoms when it is in a state of harmony and balance.

Voll Blüten steht der Pfirsichbaum nicht jede wächst zur Frucht sie schimmern hell wie Rosenschaum durch Blau und Wolkenflucht. Wie Blüten geh’n Gedanken auf hundert an jedem Tag — lass’ blühen, lass’ dem Ding den...

My bridled soul leaps under the pressure of desires,Chained i am by this organic-societal form from galloping freeMy mind heaves me to safety,but heart is ready for doom…An all knowing glance pierced deep through my...