If I came to life as a flower, or maybe when I was…
I’d see myself as a Peony.
By far my favorite flower.
Somehow writing that makes it sound full of ego, let’s say it’s the heavy dosing of self-love.
Indeed I’d be a pink Peony, the color my eyes see as love, for that’s all I’d wish to be.
All I’d wish for you to see.
Fragrant as a Peony.
The Peony reminds me of my grandmother as well, and indeed I embody many old-school beliefs. She’d be extremely proud of my Peony ways…
Bold and strong yet still able to “put your face on, your party dress and dance child!” … bursting with love.
Yes, she taught me, behind heartbroken tears, that life is meant to be lived.
The dancing Peony, that’s me.
Some say it’s a myth, here it shall be my truth, that the Peony gets help from ants. Yes, she secretes this delicious sap when newly in bud and the ants are attracted to help the bud actually open to flower.
Some say the flower will blossom with or without the help.
Indeed, that’s true for me.
I️ do love being older and wiser with the awareness that seeking help from friends is not a sign of weakness, as I thought in my younger “I can do it myself days”. Those days I still seem to live, and struggle to let go.
However, now I know friends are beneficial to my bloom, to my opening up and thriving.
Love is essential to my blossoming.
Even if it’s myth, the gardener knows that the nectar released does gather an army of ants which in turn eat harmful insects that would otherwise wound this delicate flower.
Friends, protection, beauty, grace, blossoming and love.
All within the fragrant beauty of the gorgeous Peony.
A delight to inhale, a beauty to look upon and a myriad of endless petals so that neither myself, nor any seeker may ever get to the center.
I would love to be all that.
Perhaps I am and it’s still for me to see.
That’s life… forever unfolding, one beautiful petal at a time.
What type of flower would you be? Let’s not forget the beautiful Anais Nin reminding us all to bloom… < em>”And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
Copyright © 2017 ArtemisOnFire