Roses are Fragrant

I smiled to self, peering into intuition, rising into states

of consciousness. How do we appease the many, while

remaining authentic? Some have mastered this

challenge, while remaining genuine. I, here, pray for

this gift. Life is filled with so many colors, and such

disdain. A mere glance offends, where affect ensues. Even

silence is found offensive. The notion is entertainment.

Some people do it well: they flow with grace, even skill.

Both are virtues. I. here, pray for these gifts. I’m want to

ask, How have I offended you? Was it mere disposition?

for we rarely spoke. I made a comment in private. I

suppose this is reason for disdain. Such discontent is

pestilence: it festers if unattended. But maybe unattended

is a benefit, where a piece is centered for conversation?

Either/or, it generates energy, where intuition speaks.

It’s a source of knowledge, where validation is required, in

some instances. I ponder such things, free of animosity,

sketching a rose.