Petals

The young shapely petals
that I sent you
must have withered on their
way to greet you.

While they were chosen to
remind you-
of your daintiness
and your fragrance,
they themselves must have turned
drained, arid and pale.

But do not take them-
these tokens of affection
and keep them warm and safe
in the secret place you adore.

Instead,
collect these fragile petals-
one by one
to place them between the pages
of that thick and dusty book-
you've always ignored the most.

And then try not to remember it,
and not to take care,
and not to remove its dust weekly,
and let the days just pass by.

And after years
if you come across
these long forgotten folioles-
hidden amidst that
coy hard book in the corner,
you'll find them smiling
through their minicular veins,
and those little rusty lanes.

And when you listen,
they will whisper softly
with their broken
crumpled patches:

"Even if you wade through
the fields of season
to pass through
a hundred mellow autumns
you will always bear the fragrance,
you will always love the rain,
you will always tickle senses
you will always stay the same."