Janine Shipman

Posted on 19 October 2018

The Flower

I was once looking at a flower.

And I asked, to no one in particular, "I wonder what the first thought was when the creator (if there was one) made and looked at the first flower?" I was all ready to go to the next moment when all of a sudden I felt a deep, old emotion swell within me.

And out suddenly bursting in my head the thoughts came: "Do you know what I thought? Would that flower ever move, ever do, ever create- by choice? Would it see itself... love itself... KNOW itself... only to find out it never really could fully explain it? Would it realize that I look upon it and see it as light, as salt, and as total perfection? I wondered would that flower ever try to know me? And/Or would it see me in everything around it...one way or another?

Would it recognize this in all others around it?

Would it see other flowers and help other flowers to be and to do, too?"

After a long pause... just about to the point where I almost doubted that the cascade of thoughts had any meaning...

Resonant, almost anxiously, yet again strong:

"Well would you?"