Realm of Possibilities

The Hello

Today a single flower,

lies in the remains of

A plentiful meadow,

One, where many used to sway.

The Meetings

Oft, the flower,

Used to bump into

Another flower's grace,

With mellowed laughter.

The Distance

The flower doesn't know,

If it is mere hallucination,

Or if it actually sees another flower,

At the brink of the horizon; or beside him.

The Pain

It wants to go and check,

But the frailty of its form,

Prevents a clear passage,

Making its heart shriek in grief.

The Loneliness

The flower only lives,

Upon memories of times past,

But remembering them,

Only continues to wither it.

The Question

Is the spot beside the flower,

Really starting to bustle with life?

Or is it just another memory,

Which continues to wither it away?