The flowers of Frangipani seemed inspired.
I could feel being warmed by the sun’s rays
The Champa blossoms were radiant in the sunlight, twinkling against the impossibly clear sky.
Rows of white,yellow and pink blooms were dreamlike.
The return journey took always longer as I had to pick how much ever flowers I wanted.
We had our hands full with champa flowers.
The fragrance, twinkles like a light and floats like gauze upon the opening.The fragrance also possesses unexpected buttery and dewy qualities.
Its all in Dreams...The freedom to become a flower or to dance on the breeze.
It is nice to be allowed to dream.Sometimes,we forget what it is like to dream.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if all of us took the time to dream and imagine.
Could such a thing as a dream change the world?
"Where have I come from, and where did you pick me up"?
You were hidden in my heart as desire,my darling..
In all my hopes and loves in my life
When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals you hovered as a fragrance about it
Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs,like a glow in the sky before the sunrise
Heavens first darling,twin born with the morning light,you have floated down the stream of the world's life,and atlast you have stranded my heart.
As i gaze on your eyes,mystery overwhelms me;you who belong to all have become mine
What magic has snared the worlds treaure in these slender arms of mine
My Thoughts and Reflections on The Champa take me down my memory lane at home,recalling my Dad reciting and explaining Rabindranath Tagore's famous "The Champa Flower".
The Champa Flower
Supposing I become a champa flower, just for fun, and grew on a branch high up that tree, and shook in the wind with laughter and danced upon the newly budded leaves, would you know me, mother?
You would call, "Baby, where are you?" and I should laugh to myself and keep quite quiet.I should slyly open my petals and watch you at your work.
When after your bath, with wet hair spread on your shoulders, youwalked through the shadow of the champa tree to the little court where you say your prayers, you would notice the scent of the flower, but not know that it came from me.
When after the midday meal you sat at the window reading Ramayana, and the tree's shadow fell over your hair andyour lap, I should fling my wee little shadow on to the page ofyour book, just where you were reading.
But would you guess that it was the tiny shadow of your little child?
When in the evening you went to the cow-shed with the lighted lamp in your hand, I should suddenly drop on to the earth again and be your own baby once more, and beg you to tell me a story.
"Where have you been, you naughty child?"
"I won't tell you, mother." That's what you and I would saythen.
Rabindranath Tagore,The Crescent Moon,The Champa flower
The lines and images would have taken all of you to a new level of happiness,as you spend your day happily,let me think more about the Champa flowers................