"You have hardened", said the flower, bending her petals downward toward the half stone at her roots. "These rains should have softened you, made you more fertile and receptive to the seeds of the fields; but no. You have accumulated minerals and have become more silent and full of calcium. Why do you stay here? Why do you resist the brook that gives us water?" 


The stone said nothing. 


A number of clouds passed by, the sun set and the night arrived. The silent stone still had not fallen asleep. The flower had tucked in her petals and slept profoundly, and at this time the stone began to answer: 


"I stay here because your roots have made me yours. I stay here because it is no longer about my feelings about the earth rather because I have become part of that which functions as a support of your stem which resists the wind and the rain. Everything changes, my sweet flower", said the stone, "but I stay here because love is that microscopic space between your feet and my salted skin. You would only be able to feel it if destiny were ever to separate the two of us." 


The moon followed the fade of the stars. Dawn gave a yawn as the sun began to burn its horizon on the lower lip of the mouth of a new day. The flower awoke and extended her beautiful petals. "Good morning", she said, "I dreamt that you were singing to me. How foolish of me, don't you think?" 


The stone said nothing. 
 


Comments


Comments are closed.

    Archives

    November 2012
    October 2012
    September 2012
    August 2012
    July 2012