Morning Flowers


Dear Eugene,

This morning I met some beautiful Hydrangea Macrophylla on the roadside and I asked Hey beautiful how did you get there? and she replied None of your business.

朝花夕拾 (Morning flower; evening gather).

Beautiful she is now but not for long.  I know where she came from, the other side of the road, a big family of shrub.

Now she is free but rootless, looking timeless yet aging like a time-lapse, exposing the banality of her surrounding by opening wide to the exploitation of every not-so-humdrum element.  I shall walk the same path tonight at around sunset and it will be a funeral procession for her.

Yes I know, she said, but I would rather die this way.

No compromise?  I tried again.  No in-between?

I don't fit in, where I came from.

What do you mean by that?  You look just like everyone else from where you came...

Well, that's the point.  (She paused)  I don't want to live and die like everyone else.

 So I let her be.  I moved a few steps away from her.  Then I went back her way.

I can see you are coming back for me, she stated the obvious.

I am just wondering, what if I am to come by again, say, at around noon time.  And if you changed your mind, or for whatever reason by then have found a reason to see and live any differently, would you mind if I am there to walk beside you and maybe give you a hand, only if you want--

 No need, she interrupted.  I know you mean well, but...I can't--don't want to explain.  Just no need...

 So again I let her be and left her quietly.

 I usually don't walk outside at noon time, but sometimes I do.

Maybe today.

Yours, Alex

Comments

  1. KartiniJuly 4, 2018 at 12:51 AM

    Dear Eugene,

    “... What if I come by again, say, at around noon... I usually don’t walk outside at noon time, but sometimes I do. Maybe today.”

    By mid-day, I returned to the roadside, searching for her in vain. The spot where she had lain seemed matted with the weight of hollowness. In silence, I wandered along the pathway, “looking timeless yet aging like a time-lapse” as the noon sunrays soon dissipated into twilight to hail our funeral processions.

    Where are you, my morning flower? I have come back to walk beside you at sunset, if you want.

    The summer breeze chilled to an evening haze. I saw shadows twitching on dappled grass. I found her wilting on her death patch of mud & mold. We remained silent but deafened by unspoken words: “I don’t want to live & die like everyone else.”

    Faith. Hope. Love.

    Somehow, she knew that I must have endured hell to live in this moment & tell her these three words. She has found a reason to see & live differently - even in the transience of remaining breaths - free & rooted in His eternal promise.

    Yours, Kate

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