We all have an eye for beauty. An eye for good things. A yearning to possess the things around us that we admire, adore.Some things we can possess. We can possess a vehicle that we like, a television, a house... a sandal... a pen, a shampoo, ... products and materials that we see ‘there’ which we yearn to make our own.
Some things we can only admire. The silver strings that fall from the cotton clouds amidst the golden shade of sun ...the rain drops.... the smell of earth when it receives with warmth the cool drops on her bosom... the silver shades on the leaves and the glazing pockets of water on the roads reflecting the clean face of the sky and her clouds...the feel of a nice and clean day and its freshness... I admire the beauty of nature when it rains; how can I possess them and make them mine? How can I carry with me a string of rain and hold her in my hands and think to myself that she’s mine? It’s to be waited for, to rain.... to feel that rain... to feel the beauty of nature... when it happens, if it happens.
It is just the same with this beautiful flower in the planter on my window sill. I just have to believe that it is mine, while it is not. It belongs to that plant –he owns her, its roots are in that planter – not in my heart, and its nourishment comes through the roots leaves and stem that shelters her – not through what I can offer....; but because she stands with a glowing smile just there on my window sill, waving to me with her enigmatic smile now and then as I look at her, and as I run my fingers through her petals.... and because she would let me come closer, and at times hold her, smell her, feel her.... and talk to her...in moments that we reserve for us alone... I am made to believe that I own her, but I do not.
If I want to hold her close to my heart, take her from the roots...if I want to have her for me...remove her from the shades of her leaves and the support of her stem...I will have her no more to cherish, for, the very admiration for which I yearn to bring her close will perish...
Do I have to have that flower in my hands.. all the time, for me to enjoy her beauty? What would it take to love that flower and to continue to admire her and to continue to take care of her even when I know she belongs to the roots that’s growing her....?
A big heart?
Or a heartless soul?
Some things exists as an impossible truth.
Some things exists as an unpleasant reality.
(We create Gods to worship.... when the admiration goes beyond what hearts can hold.... )
