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Bandaged and Still Blossoming


Bandaged and Still Blossoming
@Lynne Buchanan, All Rights Reserved

When I saw this plant’s flower, it immediately struck a chord with me.  It appeared as if it was all bandaged up with perfect miniature red blossoms peeking through the crevices.  I imagined that once it had been one big blossom, though I knew this was not the case, and that over the years events had scarred it requiring one bandage after another, until there were bandages on top of bandages.  I asked myself if I would have thought it was more beautiful before it needed patching up.

Did people find me more attractive when I was an innocent child, unaware of the dangers in the world?  When the thought of protecting my heart had not even occurred to me yet?  Or does blind innocence just appeal to us in a nostalgic way?

I thought about the spaces between the flowers’ bandages, the cracks in my heart that let mature love in and realistic love flow out.  The courage it takes to still blossom when you know you and the person you love are both fallible.  Those blood red flowers told me a story of being pierced to the core, breaking wide open, and letting something bigger help put the pieces back together so new blossoms could form that are simultaneously independent and connected.