The Flower and Me

Looking for some inspirations, I went for a walk in my garden to see what changes unfolded during the time I wasn't able to tend it. With all the rain, I am sure that there is, if not one or two, something to spark my writing juices.

I happened to see the fallen petal of this climber of mine and I knew that the petal will be swept by the wind to fall into the ground.

The bud is my youth. The climber is not prone to flowering annually. It took some time from the last flowering season to today. It was the environment. I moved it to a sunny part so that's why it started to flourish. I wasn't growing as a person when I was back home. I live in insecurities and my relationship with my dad doesn't help as well. I was a sore thumb. I don't belong so I left. If I stayed further, like the bud, I won't open up and be what I want to be.

The flower is me. Nestled at the back of this large tree, my climber delivers its flowers timidly as it is hidden behind. As the branches cascade and droops with three flowers each, the cycle of blooming takes it part. I am a very quiet person, and very shy as well. I dislike parties but I thrive in small meetings of one or two individuals. I like learning from people so I am always attentive to what they say. I do not like limelight yet I am a showoff when it comes to teaching.

The petals are my learnings. The delicate petals make the flowers look good but they do fall. One by one, whether naturally or accidentally, the flower loses its grip and the flower becomes history, but the petals of my life, though they had fallen, were spread out in the minds and behaviour of the children whom I had the privileged to teach. The petals of my life were built upon through time and when they took flight, I knew that I had made inspirations and motivations among the young children. 

I was the bud.
I am the flower.
I am the petals.
I am me.

(My teaching anniversary entry for this year.)