I am stubborn, proud
And often rebellious,
Hard to be loved,
Even hard on myself.
Hiding the scratches,
Covering calluses,
Wrinkles and spots –
All my sins – You know,
I am not innocent.
You, come closer,
Come closer and closer
Until you see deep in my soul.
There there’s a flower
Waiting to blossom;
I try to protect it
From unwanted frost.
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There is a Flower
by Petrouchka Alexieva
Petrouchka Alexieva is an anthropologist with emphases in Ethnomusicology and Balkan culture, music and its Diaspora. She was born Bulgarian, but has lived in USA for more than 25 yrs.
