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What A Beautiful Day
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New Stuff On this one fine beautiful day, a flower, perfect and proud stands erect. As the day continues, and the sun shines directly above with it’s warm loving rays, the flower begins to feel parched. It has been some time since the rain has quenched it’s thirst.
The flower that had once basked in the suns joyous rays begins to slouch, no longer has the energy to maintain it’s charming poise as once before. As the suns naturally nourishing rays continue to caress this placid landscape, in which the flower blended ever so harmoniously, it can no longer bare to stand, and continues to weaken, profoundly, somberly.
As the sun gracefully passes across the sky, and the minutes pass into hours, the flower gracefully bows back in appreciation, nearing the ground, forming an arch with it’s fleeting corpse. Now as the distance between the flowers petals and the womb from which it sprang becomes scant, it dangles acquiescent of it’s inevitable fate.
As the sun winks it’s good night wink into the horizon, a sullen plummeting resounds, followed by a cessation of all it‘s life energy into the moons serene domain. The flower begins the transitive process of decomposition. Into the darkness of night. Void of joyousness and harmony. Dark and alone, as we all are.
There is no finger to be pointed, no fault to be had. From the graceful petals of the flower blossom only the most modest of virtues such as altruism and unconditional love. Content to bring into this world only beauty and nourishment for it‘s fellow inhabitants. And the sun, with it’s brilliant light, brings forth only energy and life, into an otherwise infinitely dark nihility. The sun did not conspire with the clouds and the heavens against this one innocent flower. There is no malice or motive. Just a melancholy concurrence of events.
