Whispers

The flower shop is a constant source of enlightenment. Every morning the new flowers are placed in buckets near the front window. They sit with their tiny heads all scrunched up tight until the light reaches out to whisper some wondrous secret to them. And, then, one by one, they get it and each one bursts into full bloom!

I go into the silence and sometimes I am filled with confusion. My soul, like the flower buds, feels tight, constricted, all scrunched up. Then that same light comes and whispers to me and I, too, burst into bloom.

Looking into the mirror is a face so beautiful I barely recognize it.