A Time To Fall

It was the morning of the monsoon, the sunrays were caressing the grounds, and the birds were chirping on the branches, water drops were tripping from the leaves. She was standing tall in the middle of the garden showing all her assets. A gentle breeze flew across her, making her to drizzle the drops of water from her uncovered body. Each of her assets, the red roses, was in different shapes and sizes but each had its own beauty. She was proud of her property and liked the way she was, liked the way the roses grew on her. Many rose plants dreamed to be like her one day, she was also the envy to many other rose plants. Days rolled, her beauty, the roses, started to fade. Every other rose plant shed their roses to blossom new buds. She was still holding her old property fearing to shed them, fearing if she could be the same again, fearing of loosing her beauty (which is already lost). Now she is no more dream of any of her likes or the envy of the beautiful Rose plants. She was just a rose plant holding dried roses on her head. Wary about the time to fall, fall her roses down to blossom again.

I am in the same position as that of the rose plant, carrying the burden of my past success and failures, which need to be shed down to blossom new victories. I think living the life of the caterpillar for so long I am reluctant to turn into a butterfly. Unaware of the life of the butterfly or my future I am trying to live in my cocoon, the cocoon of comfort, and depression. I need to get out of this cocoon, need to face the situation and start living the life of the butterfly or whatever it may be.