“They are not long, the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty dream, our path emerges for a while, then closes, within a dream.” ― Ernest Dowson 

I just had a knock at the door.

You see, the other day, I had told these beautiful little girls in my neighborhood that whenever they should like a rose, that they need only to knock and I shall cut them a few to take home (and so as to avoid the inevitable stingy-thorn.)

So today, and just as I was sitting here settling in to write—there was the softest of tap, tap, taps at my door…a sound that could only be made by the littlest of hands.

And, as I cracked the door, just wide enough to see—there they stood, these two most beautiful angels.

“Can you please cut us some roses?” they asked, with a shy sort of hesitation.

“Of course, my loves,” I smiled in return, “Let just you and I go see if we can find some.”

And so off we went, we three, clippers in hand – in search of the most perfect bloom.

As I was snipping and sorting a most magnificent bouquet, I said to them, “You must really love these roses, my dears…to travel back here each and every day.”
 
And just like that, and without missing a beat, the littlest one said, “The roses are pretty, but mostly I just wanted to come see you.”

You see, in opening my heart and sharing my garden – it seems, I had become their most perfect bloom.

Namaste, and much love this day…