No One is There, Until the Sun Rises Again.

January 4, 2012
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The sun beams down on the whole garden, the flowers welcome the sun.
They trust it,
they obey it,
so they open up to it.
Each showing beautiful colours and releasing intoxicating aromas. The flowers love the sun, it's a bright spotlight that makes them all feel important and relaxed.
The sun becomes a drug that mollifies the flowers into a calm sedated state. And in the calm sedated state, the flowers sing their secrets out into the open wind. Feeling relaxed and rejuvenated.
Except for one flower.
One flower sits directly in the centre of the large luscious garden. This flower is the rarest, most beautiful one in the garden, but she refuses the sun. The sun beams down hard on the flower. So hard that sometimes leaves on the stem will dry up and wither away.
This flower is stubborn, not wanting to join the other carefree flowers, she keeps her petals closed when the sun is out. She murmurs her secrets to herself as she curls her petals into her.
Finally, the sun hides away and the other flowers curl up their petals, and just for a moment all is silent.
But then, the beautiful centre flower opens up her big, huge, breathtaking petals with beautiful colours streaming through the veins of the flower.
The cool night air is filled with the most amazing smell the earth has ever known.
And she sings her many secrets out to the stars with a beautiful lulling voice.
But no one is there to see her.
No one is there to smell her.
No one is there to hear her.
No one is there, until the sun rises once again.

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