Because she is my rose

I am in the mood for the poetic verses. Engaging in the world of the poetic may be a good diversion from a melancholic inner world.

A lovely paragraph that explains what makes one seemingly ordinary rose so unique:

(The Little Prince said to the roses in a garden)

"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.

- from Antoine de Saint Exupéry's The Little Prince, Chapter 21

I cannot help but feel touched by the words of the Little Prince.