The flower is not trying to force you

When you look at a rose. Perfect and pruned. With lips tipped to the sky, and above all composed. You think, don’t, don’t do anything at all. Stay perfect. Don’t move, don’t move anything at all.

But poised we wilt.

The flower unveils. Opens up. And petal by petal grows brighter and more alive. Flourishing and open, here we see the true surprise. When in its glowing beauty, the flower can be perfect and also help others to survive. By doing nothing, nothing at all. But letting nectar be tried. The bees will do the rest.

The most ornate of ships. Docked by the shore. The most elegant of anchors, dancing on the sand. And all the other bathers laugh. The bathers, they laugh and laugh. See that island in the distance, we are there. Why aren’t you?

Laughing splashing playing, the whole night through. The whole night through. We were there, why aren’t you?

Sing a song of sweet mirth, sing a song of gold, anything but misery is allowed on our great world. A world of fun, a group of nudes, we swim, we chat, we gallivant, all is ours and yours.

The ocean edge draws near, and here we make our strokes. A beautiful back float, a charming glance. Leave the others behind, on the shore, let them dance.