What Seems To Be

what seems to be
need not necessarily what it must be
sometimes in too much
anticipation
what happens is an erosion of
the mind
it soon forgets
what it is,

what a thing is
in it-self
unfolds before you like the petals of a rose
so slowly
as though time does not exist
and so
in the middle of your sorrow
you fail to understand
its chili essence

beauty in full bloom
lies wasted unnoticed by the eyes
until death wait not
such is the salt of goodbyes