Friday, 18 November 2011

The Morning of a flower

Enclosed in the mystery inside the rosy petals were the fantasy of fine fragrance waiting to be released with the thrust of nature’s beckoning. Sleeping deep were the juvenile seeds in the ovarian cushion surrounded by the erected stalks of delicate stamens bending over the sweetened lips of the solitary ovary, carrying the message of peace and continuity of hope . Wrapped around the spirally arranged petals was the green halo of fragile sepals tightly closed, trapping the charm and grace of the evening flower standing amidst the countless grassy blades of a distant valley.
Soaring at the mystic rhythms of the late afternoon wind were the butterflies which had been passionately waiting to land on the inviting beauty of the flower to be bloomed. Chirping the romantic melodies of the stories of the tiny heart of the sleeping flower, were the birds of valleys nesting in the trees nearby.

“The flower will be plucked by the warm touch of masculine fingers and will be given in the softness of his beloved‘s hands”
“The flower will be picked up by the tenderness of a brother and will be decorating the darkness of his sister’s hair”
“The flower will be taken by the love of a wife and will be tucked into the trust of his husband’s collar”
“The flower will be had by the respect of a mother and will be placed on the cuteness of her child’s hat
“The flower will be found by the sadness of daughter to be  garlanded on the grave of her father”

So were the blooming wishes inside the tiny little heart of the flower that night. It was half sleep , half awake desperately waiting for the dawn of its life, coming near.

With the very first ray of light and the very first kiss of the dew , the flower bloomed giving such a gorgeous smile, releasing a sweet mysterious smell in the surroundings, waiting for the nature to shower its blessing upon it.
No one could tell that it was the day when the soldiers of the other side of the valley were supposed to march across.Their hearts without pity were boiling in the single wish of defeating the enemies and occupying the land of their dreams.
They were all dressed up and equipped with the fowl smelling weapons.They set off for their mission climbing the mountains and reached the heart of the valley.Within no time the thunders of their heavy and blind boots came closer and closer and instantly crushed the freshly bloomed flower under them, turning its morning into the never ending night!


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