You Cannot Force a Flower to Grow

You cannot force a flower to grow. It does no good to add pressure from one’s stare or toss any magical dust to prompt blooming at the precise moment we’d like. A flower is in no hurry to open its pedals. Whether there is an audience or not, it does not matter. I’d like to think as a flower if a flower thinks at all. I’d like to not look around and force a flowery smile or attempt blossom when I am not quite ready. I’d like to not think why I am planted where I am, but instead, allow my roots to settle where they are and just be because a flower grows when it grows. It grows where it grows. It stretches itself towards the sky, upwards and out, and in act selfless worship, it shows itself to the sun. “This is what I am,” it says, and I wonder if it knew who it was or if, at the moment of opening, it was then defined. It was self revelation that “I am now a flower and I wasn’t before. I was potential and now I am.”