Unsightly

When we look at flowers, we often regard them as pretty when they are in buds and in bloom. We give them as presents for birthdays and weddings, for special occasions or to console the sick and the grieving. Flowers stand for many meanings and they had been the source of inspiration, for poets, writers, gardeners and nature lovers.

Beautiful they may be, it is not the roses that we should be celebrating. It is not the scent of the lilies nor the price attached to the gift. It is the purpose of the flowers, their very meaning, that we should celebrate. Yellow roses for the sick are just roses but the smile of its receiver is unparalleled to its cost. Bright coloured orchids may last longer but the aura of its beauty that makes a house a home is what we should seek.

I plant flowers not because they are pretty. I plant them because they signify life. The bugs that enjoy them and the seeds they carry brings forth a continuing cycle of life in its natural form. I plant flowers because they give me a sense of accomplishment for being able to grow them, and for them to prosper under my care. I plant flowers because they give meaning to my existence, that I am not just a user but also a provider and a caretaker.

When flowers start to wither, they lose their majestic beauty. The fading colour and the browning petals become unsightly and in a matter of a few days, the bouquet of roses or the big bunch of lilies are then shoved into the garbage bin. We have to make sure that we live accordingly, with a purpose, not just to exist but to live a meaningful and productive existence. Flowers become a reminder of life: birth, growth, prosperity and death. Even the withered flowers become a great metaphor of living.