when one's own flower blooms...

son's smile...
What more one wants...
Than one's own
Flower
Blooming
Like an evening rose...
White ...
Innocent...
Full of happiness
As if drenched by the drizzle...
Coming to one
Like a sense of hope
As if from far away
Inaccessible...
Yet so close
Right one's bosom...
Smiling...
Cuddling...
Playing soft...

Bonds...
Are they not like that?
Harmony...
Is it not nature's only cry?
Happiness...
Is it not only life?

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