I drew the blinds to find a surprise for me. As the rising sun lapped the room through the glass panes, there on the ledge was a box of flowers resting politely on the window ledge. Dotted colors of bright stood atop teeming brown stems; tendril leaves bowed outward, as the light from the dawn brought their vibrancy to attention. Tenderly they danced in the soft summer breeze of morning, gingerly they greeted me with the usual curtsy that only flowers are accustomed to.
Phillip approached from behind. He asked, “Do you like them?”
“They’re awesome! Where did you get them?”
“Cheerios. Yeah, Cheerios was offering free seeds to help bring more bees to your garden. So, I asked for some. I know how much you like to look at nature and flowers when you write, so I grew them for you. Look! They bloomed!”
I didn’t know what to say. All this time he had been quietly working with mother earth to provide a gift for me.
It is so true, that when pausing and reflecting on what to say next, my eyes open bright and wide to the world outside, my vision leaping from tree to tree, from petal to stem, from branch to moss, waiting for the next sentence to guide itself into form, for nothing any man could ever do is half as impressive as nature. Artist simply pay homage to that brilliance, but never quite recreate it.
It is now later, and the rain has come to claim it’s time of day. I sit here stretching not very far to be inspired. Just past the window sill, just there on the ledge, clinging so close, is a gift from my husband, so that I should be inspired, that the visions of the world we strive for are closer than we think, should we only plant a seed….All the things we wish or in life, hope for, dream about, desire….they all begin with the simple planting of an idea….and then patiently waiting for it to bloom.
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