Roses are red. Violets are white. Just build many, tranquil gardens, for my delight.
Hmm. The smell of roses is one language of woman. Perhaps, it’s why she loves them so much. What makes them different from any flower? Could it possibly be that it has a signature aura about it? Could it be that its shape, style, and qualities previously makes a woman feel beautiful? Roses masterfully have a method in delving into the very core of a woman. Uprooting any naturalities and permitting the feminine to demonstrate her best self. Yes, she is enchanting!
Anywhere in the world, a woman makes a pact with the color red-even if it is not her color. Red takes her into those Universal adventures. There is always an inviting adventure, when woman moves through her timber. Universal mysteries ordained by Heaven’s holy ground, can be her playground. Evermore, she continues to explore the healing power of woman. How does she move such riches? Furthermore, how does she share Earth’s healing, with the rest of the world? At least within her very community.
Red roses are a call to the healing process. Their mystique is highly attractive. The attraction is quite magnanimous and forces a person to go deeper, within. There is a greater meaning for the boldness of red roses. It is more for common perceptions, than what we have traditionally comprehended them to be.
Fur mich, soll’s rote Rosen regnen! What a treasured rain it would be if roses came falling down from the sky. What a masterpiece such a rain would be! Watering the Earth with her very own blooming. Now, that would be a sight to see. A natural decoration, that is pleasing and serene. Those, enjoying such raining delights would rush out with empty baskets; hoping to catch as many roses as possible. Some would put them in a watery vase; decorating the exterior with colorful ribbons. Others would create their private rose garden. Whatever the plan, let the rouge-colored adventures bring their elegance into a greater depiction, of Universal desire!
The song “Fur mich, soll’s rote Rosen regnen,” brings a fascinating account of the power of music, in the raining of red roses! Close your eyes for a second. Just for a gentle moment. Can her hear the richness of her timber? Do you imagine a silent shaking of the Earth? A trembling silence must take place, prior to the downfall of a rainy delight. Yes. It must take place. She continues to sing; permitting her voice to radiate into the Heavens. Every note, each lyric, sends the invitation, for these ruby-colored jewels.
Let them rain on me, flower me with holiness. Flower me with healingess. Flower me with rouge adventures; as I sing down the healing roses of rain.