I heard the phrase quite too often.
We love flowers but we pluck them. That's why some people are afraid of being loved.
But I don't think that's the lesson.
It is a metaphor of something fragile and mortal. Integral, thorny and needy. It is human, and every so often we fall in love with one, and built up an ego to have them.
Caught up, we pluck, and it hurts because there are changes and sacrifices to be together. They are what aches and heals, what rattles and remedies, what the constellation places in a vase called heart. Vow to take a good care of, when it blooms, then rots.
It is a metaphor of something fragile and mortal. Integral, thorny and needy. It is human, and every so often we fall in love with one, and built up an ego to have them.
Caught up, we pluck, and it hurts because there are changes and sacrifices to be together. They are what aches and heals, what rattles and remedies, what the constellation places in a vase called heart. Vow to take a good care of, when it blooms, then rots.
When the flowers dried out, some people throw them out. But some other people keep it, because it is just as beautiful.
x, Michelle
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