Water

Do you ever think about water?
I do.

I see the fresh water droplets,
Recently fallen from the clouds above,
And marvel at the natural processes of our planet.

I also contemplate how just a few days ago it was 100 degrees in the city,
How we have had two hurricanes in as many weeks,
And how my family is prepping for the unknown, as they lay in Irma's path.

Houston is wet.
Houston is a swamp,
Houston isn't Houston anymore.

Death in the Caribbean,
With the US mainland bracing for another round from Mother Nature.

Harvey and Irma,
Monsoons and Floods in Mumbai,
Trump and climate change.

Denial runs deep, and death is the cost of our negligence.

WTR
9-7-17

We All Wilt

A beginning
A middle
An end.

All forms of life in the universe go through this process.
We are created in the beginning,
We live in the middle,
We die in the end.

Some fight the reality while others accept this as fact.

The truth is that all flowers wilt.

To me, that means the beginning, the middle, and the end are all part of the same story.
One of life, growth and, ultimately, death.

What is beyond that is unknown to all whom still exist.
Does life end?
Does life continue?
What do we leave behind us?

Those questions aren't important, though.
In the end, it will not matter, so do not dwell on that which cannot be known.

Focus on the middle.

We all grow from a seed, with aspirations to become a fully grown specimen
Fulfilling our potential, and maximizing our existence.

Until we wilt.
And wilt we shall.

But why live in a garden your whole life only to worry about what will naturally come to be?

Focus on the middle,
Live in the middle.

Grow your stem,
Develop flowers of all colors,
Spread your pollen and nectar,
And ensure a new beginning for others.

Then, when all the work is complete,
Wilt in peace.

A Black Rose

6am.

Alarm clock goes off nudging my previously sleeping mind.

The air is cool, winter has arrived.

No snow.

No ice.

Temperatures well above freezing, thankfully, but I can't stop my intermittentl shivering as I venture towards the bathroom.

The showerhead's warm water soothes my body's apprehensive skin.

This can often be the hardest part of the routine.

The catalyst guaranteeing my day has begun.

Bob Marley sings about a love lost and whether it was worth it.

Introspection follows.

As I dress myself I wonder why I see it fit to dress myself in these colors.

Looking as somber as the dark morning sky outside.

Today, my pedals as black.

Same as the ashes in our fireplace.

Same as the coffee I'm soon to drink.

Same as the shadows that will inevitably be cast once daylight breaks.

Today, I am a black rose,

As bold as it's red cousin, subtle as it's yellow counterpart.

We all come in different colors, shapes and sizes.

We are, however, all able to choose our individual shades, from day to day.

And today I choose to be myself. 

We The Roses

11/24/14

If You Love a Flower...

If you love a flower, don't pick it up.

Because when you pick it up it dies

and it ceases to be what you love.

So if you love a flower, let it be.

Love is not about possession.

Love is about appreciation.

-Osho

Life is full of flowers.

Some flowers are objects,

some flowers are people,

and some are inanimate objects.

I have picked my fair share.

Thinking I was preserving what I cared about.

Thinking I could save that which I needed for another time,

a rain check of sorts.

But ultimately 

I have learned that flowers need their essentials,

all of which, are acculated independent of myself.

Flowers need soil,

to develop root systems and grow.

Flowers need sunlight,

to photosynthesize and become their future selves.

Flowers need water,

to weather the cyclic seasons and persevere.

But most of all, flowers need time.

Time to organically grow from a seed to a shoot.

Time to grow, from it's shoot, baby leaflets.

And after those stages,

a flower needs time to  become adult.

So it can display itself in its truest form.

We often think that when we pick our flowers up,

they are in their final, adult, stage.

We are often wrong.

We might be ready to pick it up,

not that doesn't mean the flower is ripe for the picking.

Most flowers could still benefit from the essentials.

From the soil.

From more sunlight.

From more water, and naturally,

from more time.

So when you bend at the waste, ready to make your bouquet,

think twice about whether the flower in you life has had enough essentials.

Time will tell if the flower should be picked at all.

Love is not about possession. Love is about appreciation.

WeTheRoses

9/4/14