Ambulant Flowers




This, I started on a clean sheet of paper:

We are flowers under the care of the well intentioned, when we started as blossoms

Unlike a flower, she roams about that she be fed

Not by mimicry or other tricks

She knows where she is loved

As she does, we also embark on many pilgrimages; brief journeys within our seasons, seeking something un-empty, that we may be filled

Ambulant flowers encountering similar spirits that make our petals burst open with a force just a little less than what is required to make them rip

Rejoicing petals

Royal petals

Petals that are our sun, nourishing one another

When before these, we are happy to be alive and are made more alive

Revived for the next excursion while hoping that it only takes us before our sun

What does a flower do for us, that we pedestalize her, but be a flower?

Lifting us as she is lifted  

So we go to our botanical gardens, which remind us of beautiful souls who touched our core as if they themselves are the ones giving off a fragrance of life, though long gone

We, ambulant roses are such to one another, but we are also suns, and water and rich rich deep deep dark dark soil

From which we wish not to wander



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