Love is like a flower that we notice from afar, a reflection in a still pool, showing ourselves whom we really are. We can love the flower for its stalk, or we can gaze at its supple body, or blooming bud, your mind, that it remind me. But in its entirety, complete and oh so whole, should we dare pluck it, and risk its mortal soul? Or do we so enjoy its fragrant scent, and risk a pluck from thorn, all to hide it home an water it, in hopes it will never grow old and worn? Alas, tiss best to leave it, that others may sit and gaze, sharing in its beauty, all in awe, that everyone may be amazed! Yet....what if we were to dig, both soil and its shoots, to replant it in our own garden, a home, in which to take roots. And with time as we water it, with ooh so loving care, to bear seeds, germinate, grow many little ones all to share! Such is a pure love, that selfishness may never taint, however, such humble patience is hardly for the faint! You see, love is like a flower, as without love it could not grow, yet with time, patience, consideration and care, it soon become the greatest blessing in which one could ever hope to know... -Philip Amerida Johnson
Posted on: Tue, 28 Jan 2014 03:43:59 +0000
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