Dave Bonta's short poem puts us in the strange position of someone just arriving in the world. The speaker calls himself "a newborn," and the first thing he meets is a rose at a door. The title, "By any other name," nods to the familiar idea that a rose would smell as sweet whatever we call it, and that fits: a newborn has no names yet, only the thing itself. The rose seems to call out to him, asking to be known.
The feeling is mixed. The day is "very pleasant," yet the way is "bad" and his head aches, as if birth has been both a gift and a shock. The speaker doesn't complain or celebrate loudly. He simply notes both things side by side. The mood is quiet, tender and a little dazed, like the first moments of waking up and noticing beauty despite discomfort.