Another snippet…let me know your thoughts, help me improve my writing
“See, love is like a rose…the rose. The one, that single one that even in the bouquet stands out from the rest”, D spoke softly. There was a brief pause, which only heightened the curious ears of the group. “It starts as a seed, an idea in your mind…buried deep. You can’t see it, but it’s there; there’s life in it” he took another slight pause. The group had now focused on him. The sounds of shuffling could be heard faintly behind the crackling of the campfire in the middle of the circle they’d formed. “But” he uttered with a minor zeal of energy. “Every seed, an idea once it’s taken root, it begins to grow. You can’t see it yet. Buried, but it starts to root itself, clutching onto Gaia forming its foundations. It keeps growing and growing until it finally breaks through the earth”, he spoke with even more zeal in his voice.
His head turned a degree upward to the right, his eyes staring into the night sky. He continued with a soft compassionate mellow tone. “Two little leaves that look like a speck of green in a sea of dark earth, like a small oasis in the desert”, he paused briefly. “The only place with life,” he said and, with another pause then, continued. “The seed is no longer buried; the seed is no longer an idea; it can be seen. And although it is small, people are aware of it and notice”. He turned his gaze from the sky to the fire. You could see the flames dance in his eyes as if the flames themselves were coming from his eyes.
“It begins to grow; the leaves widen, determined to capture all of the sun’s rays. The stem grows tougher with every day that passes. Its roots spread far and wide, not only to strengthen its foundations, but to drink all the sustenance Gaia provides. Before it even blooms, the stem grows blades, to make sure nothing and no one with their machinations can ever get too close. Then finally, it blooms”. Subtle, though, as if you could see and feel his joy emanating from him. His eyes were still steadfast in the flames. “A thing of beauty and intensity. Unmatched and unrivalled. The world is now in shock and awe at its beauty and candour.
That was my love”. He paused again, but it felt different this time. His warm zeal and demeanour seemed to begin to dissipate. “But every rose has its day,” he said with pain in his voice. “The sun and earth that once nourished begin to set and to dry. “From the earth comes the weeds and malcontents that writhe and meander their tendrils around the rose. The blades that had staved off outsiders are now hooks used as anchors to pull it down.” His voice now had an undertone of sadness, anger and despair. His eyes, still focused deep into the flames, had a glaze that made them glisten a bit more. “The rose falls and is trampled into the ground.” As he finished speaking there was a cutting silence that filled the air.