Magenta rose and drops of rain,

On paths less traveled by,

When most are rushing 'round and 'round,

Stand still and question why,

For flowers do not rush or toil,

For things not meant to be,

They stand in sacred presence,

Beauty boundless, bold and free,

Magenta rose and drops of rain,

Illuminate the way,

They don't need explanation,

To uplift a blue-sky day,

Their colors vibrant, vivid, pure,

Pulsating pink and green,

Remind us that the slower path,

Might be the most serene.