There was a time I loved a flower so much,
so much - instead of picking it, I left it alone.
I left it, I knew that if it felt my touch,
It would die. I wouldn't be able to let it grow,

I'm not good at watering it,
I forget why it's colourless,
and I watch it die, bit by bit,
and wonder if I'm the cause of this.

It dies, but I can't help but admire,
this beautiful flower, in all it's forms,
I don't care for it, the situation is dire,
I do nothing but watch as it deforms.

My darling flower, it bloomed in my direction,
I thought it happened to bloom, not for me.
I knew I wasn't able to show the affection,
The affection this flower wants, to be free,

It bloomed, showing me it's finest petals,
but my darling flower, didn't need me anymore.
It lives another way, and it settles,
My feet hit the floor, as I realise I'm rotten to the core.

Not my darling flower, never so,
but me, I'm the one with all the woe,
I killed my flower, after it did so much,
At the end, I knew it would've died to my touch.

And during these dark, empty nights,
I find myself colder than the floor of my room.
When the morning wind caresses my naked legs,
The warmth of the blanket, an armor pierced through.

My soul, once a kingdom of carnations,
Is now empty, drought has left it barren.

And yet, there was a time
When we both wandered
Through fields of red carnations.

In my garden where
The flowers are so blue and
With petals that shimmer and glow
The bees dance with glee
As sweet as can be and
The little blue flowers are
In a world painted soft by their show.

You
Me
This life.
Something we do.
Something we want to do.
Something we fight for and take for granted.

Stopping to smell the roses but only when there are roses near by.

Reminding ourselves that we can take the time to find the flowers we want to smell and prioritize appreciating their beauty.

We have the time, and yet our time is spent doing so many other things we don't want to do just so we can do so many other things that we want to do.

We waste so much of our time and yet I can't help but wonder if I even want to spend my time searching for flowers and smelling them when the spontaneity of smelling flowers and appreciating their beauty when they come into my life is a simple joy that I chose to keep and remember.

There's so many things to do, not do, want to do, not want to do, say, not say, appreciate, take for granted, love, loathe, but most importantly love and the things and the people and the places and the moments, the time that we have is so long and twisting yet short and fleeting, meaningful, yet boring, exhilarating, yet pointless and profound, so profound to hold you in my hands and look into your eyes and hold your tiny body against mine knowing you've been fearfully and wonderfully made.

Have you ever
stood outside after a hard rain
sun low on the horizon
the slightest touch of darkness
caressing the edges
birdsong floating on silent air
Have you ever
been so moved by the enduring music
Goddess kissing your inner ear
soaking into your brain and
emerging as free flowing tears
emotion a tingling tightness
heart through the fingertips
Have you ever
felt the gravity increase
while the burden gets lighter
the simplicity of the complex
as sounds that can only exist
while complicated interpretations
dissolve in the pure
definition assigned by consciousness
as birds simply are birds