Petals on the wind

I wrote this poem yesterday while attending a birthday party. We were gathered in the backyard, and there was a beautiful tree nearby, covered in delicate white flowers. Every so often, a strong gust of wind would pass through, and suddenly the petals would lift into the air, swirling around us before settling gently onto the ground.

It was an incredibly beautiful moment but fleeting. If you weren’t paying attention, you could miss it entirely. One second the branches were still, and the next the air was alive with falling petals. Then it was over.

What stayed with me most was the contrast. The sight of the fallen flowers was peaceful and serene, carpeting the ground in white, but there was also a quiet sadness in knowing the moment had passed. The beauty wasn’t diminished by its ending if anything, it was made more meaningful because it couldn’t last.

This poem came from that awareness. The understanding that some of the most beautiful moments in life arrive suddenly, linger briefly, and leave behind only a feeling an ache as proof that they were real. And sometimes, that ache is all that remains.