Image by GLady from Pixabay 

Have you seen the blue rose?
The large, bright, velvety blue rose
That I saw in my dream last night.
Its translucent presence mesmerized my eyes,
And the beauty of the flower capsized all my remaining senses.
I longed with all my life to catch its’ glimpse one last time
But alas! The blue rose vanished in front of my eyes.
With only one glimpse of its unparallel beauty before it vanished permanently into the thin air.
The bright blue petals and the luminous presence of the ephemeral flower
Felt like it suddenly lighted up my inner self.
It aroused in me the sensation of deeper consciousness and pushed me to look at my inner self.
Is this divinely beautiful blue rose a reflection of my inner self or wisdom?
Is this the purest form of my hidden consciousness that is buried deep underneath piles of my trash ego?
Is this a reflection of my inner purity that has been shadowed by ages of ignorance?
Or, is this the altered ego that is always hidden from me by my powerful subconsciousness?
The haunted feelings and prejudices bubbled up in my deeper consciousness
I kept searching for an answer with no response from any corner.
Every night the blue rose comes into my dream,
Reminding me of my unknown past and an uncertain future.
It haunts me and chases my consciousness and pains me to rekindle my self-ignorance;
Yet every night I crave the dream of the blue rose
To come before my eyes and to wake me up in the middle of the night,
Amidst nowhere in this ephemeral world.
Does it have a message for me?
Does it want to tell me something?
I ask the blue rose every time it unfolds before my eyes in my dreams
But it vanishes every time I wish to touch it or feel it or smell it.
I can feel its presence around me
I can hear it whispering close to my ears,
I can feel its’ luminescent nature,
Through its soothing reflections on my skin when it is close to me
Yet it remains so far being so close to me in my dreams.
I chase after it or pounce on it
But the elusive blue rose always crumbles,
And then vanishes before I could lay my hands on it.
I often feel that it is probably a reflection of my inner self,
Being crushed every day in the din and bustle of city life.
Has kept itself hidden deep within myself
Too much of my astonishment,
Once a while reminding me
Possibly of the true and inner self imprinting,
Of the complex and unexplored human nature and mind,
That we hide from everyone by wearing a shallow mask on our faces.
I know not how to define it
I know not how to draw it on a canvas,
I know not how to capture it on a camera,
I only know that it appears in my dreams
To possibly remind me that my true inner self is not dead yet. 

.    .    .