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” This poem is very descriptive and beautiful in catching all the ways a flower is special and full of beauty. There is an amount of tenderness in how he gently puts words to the sheer loveliness of its bloom. I can almost see him caressing its petals with a finger. Ralph Waldo Emerson  knew its value as a flower when he wrote: ‘Beauty is its own excuse for being.’ 

The heart indeed, craves what it needs. The soul needs beauty in order to survive the heartbreaks in life.”    Yu/stan/kema



In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,                                

I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,

Spreading the leafless blooms in a damp nook,

To please the desert and the sluggish brook.

The purple petals, fallen in the pool,

Made the black water with their beauty gay;

Here might the redbird come his plumes to cool,

And court the flower that cheapens his array.

Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why

This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,

Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing,

Then Beauty is its own excuse for being:

Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!

I never thought to ask, I never knew:

But, in my simple ignorance, suppose

The self-same Power that brought me there brought you.