The Flower
By B.A.BronieDad.
The sun set over the dry and barren earth, its beauty in contrast to the stark landscape of the dry windswept desert. A few rugged cacti stood watch over the scorched and cracked earth as the sun made its majestic exit, lowering at last, bringing in a well-deserved rest from the intense dry heat of the day.
The moon rose in its turn, clothed in its own subdued beauty, holding its nightly court with its heavenly hangers on. The stars shimmered magically as the earth gave back the heat the sun had given in abundance through the day, the
earth’s nightly offering to the moon’s court.
The creatures of the night emerged from their warrens and boroughs, setting about their nightly chores, bustling about with the busy tasks of their lives. Everywhere there was movement, stealthy, quick, and furtive. With the return of the sun’s heat to the night sky, freedom had returned to the desert.
As a bird passed overhead, drifting in the currents of the night’s wind, a single seed dropped, and settled into the cool but parched earth. It had the good fortune to fall in a place with a fair amount of soil, in a small crevasse, away from the scuffle of busy feet, and hidden from the view of the day’s burning sun.
The seed sat there, wind gently blowing the soil over it, like a mother tucking in her beloved child. Dormant, the seed slept quietly, oblivious to the world bustling around her.
Morning came, and with it the desert’s burning sun. The seed slept still, safe in her bed of soil, removed from the burning light of day. Day turned to night, and night to day. Cycle upon cycle, she slept, waiting for the time when she would waken.
Rain came, the infrequent visitor, washing away the dirt and dust of the desert for a brief moment. The seed still slept as the water carried her away, and her soil with her, moving her further down the cutlet that was her home. When she stopped, caught under a rock, the wet soil tucked in and around her, keeping her safe from the ravages of the desert.
Her new home was a small oasis, barely that, a small trickle of water coming from an aquifer near the rock, making a basin barely large enough for a single animal to drink from. But it was enough. Feeling the pull of the water's magic, the seed softly awoke from her slumber, stretching and reaching for the water. As she stretched, she grew, and soon she had tiny leaves that danced lightly in the desert breeze.
She was content. She had everything she needed. She had the gentle breeze to dance with. She had the call of the night’s creatures for her song. She had the shaded strength of the sun’s light to grow by, and the soil itself as her food. She enjoyed the stillness, and was happy.
After a time, she began to change. She grew again, and felt the need to express the beauty she felt. A beautiful flower grew from her, vibrant as the desert itself, full of color and passion. It waved in the breeze, showing to all the beauty that was in her soul. And she was content.
Time passed, and she grew sad that there was none to share her beauty with. The birds of the air would visit, but only briefly. The creature of the night would come, but only to share in the water of the aquifer, then they would leave as well. There was truly none that came, and stayed to share in her beauty.
One day, as the flower sat alone by her aquifer, a shadow passed overhead. Sensing a difference in this shadow, the flower quivered, not knowing what to expect. She felt something gently working her roots loose from the earth that had given her life, and pulling her up into the light of the desert sun. Fear gripped her soul, and then, she was shrouded in darkness.
For a time, the darkness seemed total, and she began to despair. Her thoughts grew heavy, wondering again if she would ever know the joy of dancing in the wind, or feeling the gentle warmth of the shaded sun on her leaves and petals. Lost in her thoughts of loss, she lamented.
She was pulled from her dark broodings with the sudden return of light. She felt gentle hands cupping her roots, holding her upright, and moving softly the earth back around her. She felt the magic of water poured over her, soaking her roots and filling her soul with life again. A gentle breeze stirred her leaves, and she felt again the dance of the wind upon her leaves and petals.
And she was content. And the shadow passed over her again, and from it she sensed happiness.
Day turned to night, night to day, and the cycle continued. And every day, the shadow returned, and shared with her its happiness, and she knew in her soul that finally, she had found a place where she could share her beauty. And she was happy.