Flowers as a Gift: Poem

  Flowers as a Gift

Give women flowers,

Not just on dates, and not on a random day,

But on a quiet evening, without need,

When the soul sounds especially.

Give them just because,

Because they are alive, nearby,

That warms the silence,

And heals the heart with a gentle glance.

Give them the breath of roses,

And the light of fields in simple bouquets,

So that in every petal, seriously,

Love whispers without an answer.

Let the fragile stem on the palm,

Become a recognition without words,

Where instead of a thousand stories,

One: "You are more than love."

Give women flowers,

As a gift to the sky a ray of dawn,

So that in their eye's dreams bloom,

And the world seems endless.

And maybe, in this very moment,

When their hand touches a bouquet,

You will become forever for them,

Those who brought spring... and summer.

Give women flowers —

And listen to how the heart breathes,

How in the silence of her dreams,

They become a little closer, higher.

Give — in the rain and in the first snow,

In the midst of worries and in the weary hour,

So that they know: there is someone in the world

Who sees in her the whole world is not small.

Give the scents of spring,

Weaving tenderness into every gesture,

So that even on ordinary days,

In her soul, an orchestra sounds.

Give as if for the first time,

Embarrassed, sincerely, without measure,

As if the whole vast world now,

In her hands — and only you.

And if suddenly the light fades,

And night touches with quiet sadness,

Let your simple living bouquet,

Return her joy, as art.

Give women flowers,

In them there is more meaning than words,

In them — a promise of kindness,

And tenderness spoken by you.

And perhaps, through the years, suddenly,

She, warming with a smile,

Will understand you were the one who could,

Love... without demanding an answer.

Give women flowers,

And do not count the petals,

For in each one — the tremble of silence,

And the revelation of the soul.

Give so that the light trembles,

In her eyes, like stars in the sky,

So that every moment lived,

Becomes warm, sincere, simple.

Give, as if for the first time,

You utter a confession,

When both the voice and the story tremble,

And the heart asks only for attention.

Give tenderness without reason,

Without "why" and "if necessary",

For love does not need a title,

It is important to be with the beloved nearby.

Give lilies and poppies,

Tulips, roses — everything in between,

Let each of these quiet signs,

Live your sincere charge.

And may one day, through the years,

When whiskey touches the gray hair,

She will whisper to you, as then:

"I still need you..."

Give women flowers —

As life gives, without regret,

And in this gesture of simplicity,

Lives a great moment.

And if the soul suddenly asks:

"What is the holy power of love?"

The answer will come barely breathing:

"In that, it... always gave"

Sergey Kay