Barbara I.

The Flower

"There is something red." one visitor of the garden noticed.
"Some can't even put their waste into the bin." snorted the second.
"It has no adequate surrounding here." the botanist declared.
"It might have to be replanted." considered the gardener. "If it will be cultured, ..."
"... it could be possibly sold well." the merchant continued.
"As defective as it is, it would not have the slightest chance on the market." the marketing expert averted.
"They aren't all the same. This one however misses leaves on one side of the stalk." the teacher specified.
"Above all it is distorted." the doctor diagnosed.
"What a pity." the melancholic whispered compassionately.
"A messy garden!" the critic complained. "It simply has to be eradicated as it is disturbing the ensemble."
"Simply ugly." the aesthete agreed.
"It has a right to be protected and sustained." the representative of the minorities decided vigorously.
"Actually it is an entirely natural species!" the ecologist got excited.
"It is that beautiful!" the enthusiast aspirated deeply moved.
"So what? - We have hundreds of those on our barnyard." the farmer meant contemptuously.
The loather said nothing. She jumped into the low brushes and kicked at it. But it straightened up, inspired a musician to compose a melody, a painter to limn a picture.
"Let me immortalize its beauty by carving it out of stone!" the sculptor ardently exclaimed.
The searching waited until all noise vanished. Then she spoke to herself: "It keeps a secret. I will fathom it." She sat down in front of it to meditate devotionally.
A woman passed by, felt amazed. She drew near, curiously, carefully avoiding to disturb and amused about the intense gaze on a hidden something on the ground.
"Ah," she said then, recognizing it, without moving her lips. "You are flower."
The bud opened and smiled just the same way: "You are woman."
The searching rose after breathing deeply and said to the woman: "The bud opened because I was patient." After that she left to look for a new object for her meditation.
But the flower from now on lived its life by virtue of the woman's words. The woman lived hers by those of the flower.

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Barbara I..
Published on e-Stories.org on 21.03.2006.

 

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