Flowers

Growing up I never really enjoyed flowers

I didn’t hate them or anything I just don’t think I ever appreciated them

I never picked them from the grass 

Or plucked their petals

I never gifted a rose to a loved one

I never even really liked the smell of them

But this year I was literally forced to stop and smell the roses…

And this is what I learned

For one, You’d be surprised at where a flower can grow. 

In between the cracks on the street

Or on the side of volcanos

There are no limits

And here in the midst of all the stress and responsibilities and work and anger we find flowers

We find moments of joy and compassion

We just have to plant the seed

Next, each flower is unique

Maybe even as unique as the snowflakes that fall atop their petals

Each stem stretching and twisting in a new way

Each petal dramatically draped like no other

These small details differentiate them… and us

In this maelstrom of people we can sometimes get lost

Forget what makes us special

And I’m here to remind you that you are

Even if the only thing that makes you special are the details

The way you tie your shoe or sit in your chair

You are unique

Thirdly, all flowers die. It’s the inevitable truth.

They wilt. The roots dry up. The sun a distant friend.

And they die.

Isnt that terrible. That a beautiful thing must also die? That death isn’t reserved for the ugly or the evil.

All things come to an end. Flowers. Relationships. Heartache. Passion. Pain. Your shift at work. That argument with your mom. The laughter at the end of a joke. This year. This poem.

The only flowers that don’t die are the paper kind

The ones that have been folded into themselves, pressed down into the soil and forced to reveal their beauty

And yes. The simple step of someone’s foot can snatch that beauty away in an instant, but the flower doesn’t die

The flowers life isn’t dependent on it’s beauty

And with a few careful pulls, maybe some tape or glue

The flower can live again, and with that it’s beauty will return

Maybe not now or tomorrow

But eventually

I challenge you to treat others like paper flowers. I challenge you to treat yourself like a paper flower.

Because even after all of the folds and stomps

You are still alive

You are still capable of beautyo

And even if you don’t feel that way

I challenge you to give it time

To let your flower blossom into something new in the spring.