And so it starts with a seed looking for a home in the soil.
She is lost and unruly. Afraid of becoming more than something small. When you plant her, you tell yourself you will choose wisely for you want her to blossom. Now may not be the time. But, soon.
It takes a while.
Many factors have made the soil unsuitable for her growth: the climate and it’s conditions, the rotten roots, the bugs infested in the backyard.
She looks to the sun and asks for something different. She makes wishes on stars. She makes plans to cultivate in an unknown land.
And somehow the wind carries her here and she is grateful.
The seed is planted in some New England garden in September. It takes a whole year for her to adjust to its climate. She is scared and wonders if she has made the right choice. She holds on because she feels that there is promise.
In the garden, flowers of many shapes and colors bloom. They become friends, and she can feel her roots becoming stronger. They grow together, picking up the leaves that are falling from each other’s stems. Maybe this is what home meant all along?
She falls in love with the garden, and the blooming begins.
Soon, another seed is planted nearby and they intertwine—growing together. She is scared at first but thinks it is something beautiful. She’s not used to blooming this quickly.
“To grow a ton and learn each day.”
She can feel her stem grow taller as she watches petals bloom out of what was just a new seed. She is in awe by its glory, and she calls her Love. As Love comes in, she welcomes her to every part of her garden and is careful not to ask for much in return. Why ruin something beautiful?
She tells Love to get comfortable. Take anything and everything she may need. She tells Love to drink her water even when her own leaves wilt. Love doesn’t take notice. Love takes all that she can, and of course she doesn’t think much of it.
“It’s part of the growing.” She convinces herself it’s unlike the others: No one is coming to pick her petals—to be upset to find her stem bruised.
The seasons change and the growing gets harder, but the blooming flower has decided to stay here despite Love’s hazards. She tells herself that it is worth it to intertwine. But, Love grows tired and pulls away, telling her she both wants to but doesn’t want to sprout here anymore.
The flower prays that the wind will propel her forward once more.
But why stay if Love doesn’t like the soil? Why stay entwined if Love wants to leave? Love deserves to go somewhere where she can bloom. And the flower deserves to twine with someone who wants to grow with her.
During the unraveling, the flower promises her garden that she will get stronger. The colorful flowers promise her it will be okay. They are there, and the garden is still thriving.
But soon thereafter, she realizes she has wilted and no longer gives the garden what they needed of her.
For she has given everything away to the flower who wanted nothing but her garden.
Caeli Chesin can be reached at [email protected]