Ghost Of A Rose

If I could look at her, what would I see?  This person whom I have come to know?  Is she just that, another individual in my life?  If you were to see her, how best could you explain her? Does she laugh like most?  How deeply do the emotions run below the surface?  Flowing calm water, or yet, more like a dark storm coming in low on the horizon?

Then come into my world and let me show you what I see deep within her.  You see, she is of vast complexion.  One moment, kind, loving, caring.  The next, like anyone, the tides turn, and the deep rises, exploding.  In many ways, we are all the same, some more than others.  Some of us, we build walls of stone, high, and deep, keeping at bay all that would interfere with us.  Others? They open the gates wide, welcoming, trusting.  Who can say which is right or wrong, as each individual is unique in their own way.

I see her at times, as the Dryad of the forest, wild hair entangled with leaves and grass.  At times, an Imp, playing tricks on you at the least expectant moment.  At times, a she wolf, fierce and protective of what belongs to her.  But most of all, I see her as a Ghost Of A Rose.

Imagine her skin, like that of the petal, soft, luxurious. Close your eyes, and let the tips of your finger lightly graze just above the skin, feeling the intricacy of the petal beneath. Bring her close, inhale the scent of her hair, not unlike that of the intoxicating rose itself.

Yet, you can find her quite easily.  Look deeply into the eyes for it is said that one can see the soul itself, if you look deeply enough. Like shadows, the color changing, as the mist evolves from within.  Like the rose's deepest colors they eyes reflect all that she is, all that she will become, all that she will ever be. 

Like the thorns on a rose, prick her, and she will bleed.  She is trusting, hesitant, yet giving herself willingly and fully should the moment arise.  Hurt her, and watch as she retreats into herself, as does a rose when night falls.  Like the morning dew, forming on the petals, she will cry tears.  Yet, when the sun arises, she is but reborn, opening herself again, ready to embrace a new day.

Take a moment, stand back, take in the beauty that she is, watch her unfold, watch as she blooms.  Yet, take caution, for delicacy requires a light and gentle touch.  Nourish her, give her that which she needs, and always enjoy the beauty that stands before you.  Remember, she is your closest friend.  Honor that, and you will always have her beside you.