A Conversation With A Jasmine Flower

I recall when I was a small boy, 
you were the snow flowers of Spring, 
sprawling over the paling fence 
of my childhood imaginings. 

You were also the fragrant blanket 
draped across my wedding bed, 
when I married in New Delhi. 
The festive flowers of happiness. 

You were the tiny sprigs of white 
in my daughter's bridal Bouquet. 
I placed you in her folded hands, 
as she lay asleep, to wake no more. 

My grand child and I watched, 
as finch stole twigs from you, 
then flew off to build their nest 
in the prickly Banksia Bush. 

The snow flowers of Spring still grow, 
in the garden of an old man's memories, 
dusting them with the sweet perfume, 
of you the beautiful Jasmine Flower.