Secret of the Red Rose
Let us move the curtain aside
Letting our emotions breathe fresh air
Letting puberty choose a safe place under any branch easier
Letting desire free to play, remove its shoes
And jump over the flowers in search of seasons
Letting solitude free to sing, write something, go to the streets
Let us be simple anywhere, in the bank kiosk or under a tree
It is not our job to identify the secret of the red rose
Maybe our job is to dive into the magic of the red rose
And camp behind the wisdom
Wash our hand in the glory of a green leaf and go our way
We shall be born in the mornings when the sun rises
Shall let the excitement fly
Shall sprinkle moisture on understanding, space, color, voice,
window and flower
Letting the sky sit between the pronunciation of being
Letting our lungs fill up and empty from eternity
Letting the load of knowledge down from the shoulders of the blue
jay
Taking the name back from the fog, evergreen, mosquito and
summer
Let us rise up to the height of kindness on the wet legs of rain
To open the doors for human, light, insect and tree
Maybe this is our job, to be after the song of the truth between the
century and the morning glory