Posted in Musings

Wildflowers


The universe is a precious gift adorned with roses and ribbons of all kinds, wrapped up under layers of glittering paper. But I’ve often felt we are so fixated on opening it up that we tend to not notice all the work that went into it, the little details meant for our delight, and quite often the glitter paper and the ribbons are barely noticed and tossed aside. 

The way the sky lights up with every sunrise. The agility of a squirrel. The giggle of a rivulet. The incessant chatter of crickets giving one company on a lonely night. The flight of a bird. Rain on the roof. Smell of wet earth. The sheen of new leaves. The crunch of old ones under your feet. Climbing vines. Lines of wisdom on an ageing tree. A butterfly waltzing to the rhythm of the breeze. A wildflower in bloom.

I love wildflowers. I love how they brave birth in the wilderness, seeking approval from none. How the frailty of their petals do not hold them back from facing the sun. How the brevity of their existence does not stop them from achieving glorious perfection and every intricate design right, even when destined to wilt by sundown, unnoticed.

I like to believe that the secrets to happiness are scattered all around us, waiting to be discovered if we’d care to stop and take a look. Where do wildflowers fit in the scheme of things? Maybe they are little angels sent to line my paths when I am lost.

Watch us, they tell me, watch and learn. You too are a little lost soul in a world bigger than you can fathom, facing trials you never foresee. You may feel unwanted and out of place; your actions inconsequential. Your lifetime is but the tiniest fraction of eternity, a slice of today and tomorrow, before you fade into inevitable oblivion. Why then, you ask, should you blossom at all? Why colour your cheeks with brilliant hues when you are meant to wither away anyway?? 

Because, dear child, even your trivial existence holds the power to make a weary traveller smile. 🙂

 ( The drawing was made long ago by my arts teacher from school – a treasured gift)

Advertisements

Author:

A wayward thinker hiding behind the facade of necessary courtesies

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s