🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️ I’d rather watch the petals dance upon the vine, To keep them wild and breathing is my soul’s design; Yet someone silly plucks them just to see me glow, A gift of dying beauty from a love I’ve helped to grow. 🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️
You see, I look at a bud and I see a commitment. I see the patience of the soil, the slow drink of the rain, and the quiet magic of letting something breathe exactly where it belongs. I don't want to own it; I just want to be the reason it has the strength to bloom. To me, love isn't a trophy you put in a vase—it’s the act of nurturing the wildness in someone else until they’re vibrant enough to light up the whole field. But then... there’s that silly soul. They come to me with a grin and a handful of severed stems, offering up a bouquet of dying beauty like it’s the ultimate prize. It’s such a sweet, clumsy contradiction. They’re so eager to see me smile that they’ll pluck the very thing I’m trying to protect. They want to hold the beauty in their hands, while I just want to keep it alive in the earth. I suppose that’s the dance of it: one of us builds the garden, and the other can’t help but want to bring a piece of it home.
In video: Ylang- Ylang flowers Plumeria flowers (also known as Frangipani)