In the spirit of Rumi - 5

Yesterday, my dearest one,
you who are so dear to Me,
you walked so slowly through the public park
carrying your sorrow with you

and as you walked, you cast a glance
at that red rose whose scent waylaid you on your path,
wondering if its beauty
might somehow lift your sorrow from you.

Walk in the park again today,
you who are so dear to Me,
I shall be waiting in the rose,
waiting in the rose’s beauty