Morning Flower

Awaken, beautiful flower, to your truth!

Awaken to the beauty that you are! Smell the sweet fragrance of possibility, the aroma of potential that defines  the beauty of your life. Feel the presence of an energy so powerful in its acceptance that it need do nothing to accomplish everything that you desire.

Awaken to the power of your smile, that beautiful reflection of a new day full of hope and promise. Realize the truth of darkness as it reminds you of the illusion of its veil when faced with the light of truth within you. Hold my hand in the space of human desire, and feel the warmth of a body that holds the Sun up for you, even in the moment when you can no longer see it. Know that it is there in the man who holds your hand in the darkness, who warms you in the cold night air, and who walk willingly into life’s walls with you, whether they are yours or of his own making.

You are blooming. You have bloomed. You will bloom again. You have given meaning to the Sun’s rising, to the rays of light that crest over some distant horizon, and to the truth that every flower has its morning because every flower has its night; and that dusk and dawn are similar except in the directions we are looking. Nothing else changes in their moment.

Somewhere, at some time, a man will bend himself to greet you. He will close his eyes to the world outside and inhale your essence, feeling nothing but the truth of who you are in the exchange. He will caress you while discarding some long-stored memories of fragrance past, and adore you for the emptiness that you have filled. He will not pick you, lest you wilt away, but will rather plant himself in the vast fields where you are, and share the fertile soils that give you life, realizing that nothing is true but the Oneness that you share.

A Oneness experienced in your shivers of delight as his lips touch your shoulder, as his arms snake around your waist, and his hands explore the flesh you surrender to his own. A Oneness known in the rhythm that you share, in the sacred space on which you melt together, in the eternal pool you create within each moment united by a common purpose. A moment that never seems to end, a moment impossible to define by space and time, a moment only known by lovers sown to be together, sprouted to know their simple truth, who bloom to the same inward power only seen through outward radiance.

Sometimes you just can’t hide a light under a basket. Sometimes the basket simply gives the light the appearance of life. Sometimes the basket is burned away by a singularity of purpose so intense that a once-separated light becomes one again with everything around it. The basket is not destroyed, it is simply transformed into the very light that gave it purpose. Love, made intimate by the basket, is then made one by its transformation.

Love, made separate in the waves of pleasure as they roll within, united in the peace that fills their gaps. Love, made separate pixels by the human artist that paints it in his image, finally made whole in the realization of love as a great canvas, accepting whatever image the dreamer will create.

Love, arguably complex in its simplicity, hard in its softness, completely united by the human chisel that hewns it. Love, sometimes defined in the outward chaos of the Universal order of things, or in the simple power of a scent that awakens a man to purpose, and gives a seed the power of realizing its potential.

And there I stand as you open, with the Sun cresting above the flat horizon behind me, giving the mountains before me a lovely tint of orange, Do not delay our meeting, or hide your scent from me. Do not close yourself to the possibility, or paint your colors falsely before my eyes. Stand there, open and exposed, and let me take you in as though you were the breath that gave me life.

And together we will enjoy the summers of our life, grow older in the autumn, lay dormant in the coldest winter, and be reborn in the promise of a spring renewal. Then, when our time here has ended, we will leave a space made better by our existence, forever marked by the moments we had shared.

Ah, such a dream can’t be laid waste by a reality…I will see you very soon.

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5 thoughts on “Morning Flower”

  1. Such an interesting perspective … not “pick the flower ~ lest she wilt” but plant yourself along side of her ~
    Simply Magical!!!

  2. “If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.” (Attributed to Buddha)
    It’s interesting that this quote has been in mind this week.
    May you find the miracle of your morning flower!

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