Ode to the Pink Lilac 

The aroma, mingled with baby's breath, fill the air
of sunny morning or rainy evening.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath
of the scent; easy to Imagin love; love of Mother.

Rain showers over the bloom all night; fallen petals,
leaving only one or two clusters browned,
your delicate scent gone, it seems; but
what is that sweet aroma rushing in my window
in the night breeze?

I know it is you; but you tease:
who? me? No.
I still think it is you. who else bear such a fresh 
scent as fade away, like Mother's love?

Sweet, resilient aroma;
fills the round the old house, in the street, 
in the neighborhood; in the dark world;
as the bloom fade in the moon,
like Mother's love.


  ©Byung A. Fallgren