The Flower

When you pick a flower it dies quickly.

It becomes more temporary.

Let it be and it will seed and another form will regrow each year blooming, bringing joy and delight each time.

I am not a flower to be picked off from my roots because I looked good. Enjoyed only for someone’s temporary pleasure.

I am rooted and I re-root.

I bloom and offer joy when left to grow in full honesty uninterrupted. Love all of me in such a way.

Not just bits, the whole natural cycle.

I’m not a possession, not there to be picked and discarded for the sake of another’s moment of pleasure.

I grow from seed, roots and from being nourished.

If you pick me I will die an early death. Then dropped because my colours fade and this no longer pleases the senses.

Recognise that the colours only fade so quick and the joy that once was only passes so soon as a direct result of the action of selective, momentary, self-gratifying picking.

Only choosing parts that are visually and sensorially fulfilling of need, but rejecting the rest.

Detaching me from roots and stem is rejecting their part in creating the story of the beauty that I have become when in bloom.

I am not a temporary beauty, nor a fragmented flower. I am not here to be selectively picked.

I am whole, I am rooted.

Evolving, transitioning, re-seeding and arising in new form. Fresh in each transient bloom.

To be enjoyed in each newness. Time and again rebirthing.

I bloom most beautifully when left in natural state. Remaining connected to but not defined by roots and stem. Whole.

The flower that brought such joy can return anew, to be enjoyed like a treasure, again and again and again when respected in wholeness.

Every part is important.

End the picking, selectively choosing parts for short lived self-motivated joy.

The disappointment and tendency to then discard because my flower is wilting and no longer pretty is purely a result of the momentary self satisfying picking action.

I cannot thrive this way, no flower can, the effect is an early death.

Instead let me grow and fulfil the intended destiny of my seed.

In leaving a flower whole you can freely enjoy and rejoice in the nature and freshness of each bloom. The sensory joy can be enjoyed again and again and again.

Present, anew, beautiful and whole.

~ Stacie Amelia ©️

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