In the spring of 1997, I went with my husband Chris to the Exposition Park Rose Garden, behind the Los Angels County Museum of Natural History, with a friend of ours.

Silently, we stood, observing the rows of roses, inhaling their scent, and absorbing their delicate beauty.

As in all of my life, I listened to my heart and did not touch them. I respected their boundaries and knew there would be other blooms to come.

Oh, though, how I enjoyed them!

Palette of Reds

As I walked through the peaceful pathway,
I spotted a fragrant flower garden.

Oh, how sweet the fresh scent
That filled the fields beyond my senses.

I wanted to reach out.
I wanted to touch the roses’ palette of reds
But I remembered, upon touching them,
Their sharp, thorny stems.

I recalled
The petals of the past
And
The new blooms
Yet to come.