Until the pale grass pink orchids stop blooming in June
I have to take responsibility for me
and my no is not only valid
but a full sentence.
And although two things can at once be true
like everybody has flattering and unflattering characteristics
that’s a dialectic and like the day lilies of the mid year, it’s okay.
It’s okay to own the positive things about me.
When I feel better about me I misbehave less.
I come up roses every time.
Misbehavior derives from not feeling well
hunger, sadness, stress, lack of connection must be addressed
and to ignore what a magnolia needs specifically, is a punishment.
I certainly deserve to give me at least the amount of love given to a poppy.
I am worthly of love.
Everybody is.
And I am everybody.
Until the Sentimental Blue Balloon Flower no longer exists on this world
I have to be mindful, create space for me to try, to fail, to learn and to grow and to bloom.
Nothing is inherently all good or all bad if I can remember that bit.
It’s okay to wait when I notice I desire an impulsive act.
When I’m careful of my first judgement and how I view things
I can tell if I’m giving something of insignificance high value
undermining my own survival
or adding weight to the pressures that already exist just trying to survive.
It’s okay to accept and have compassion for the negative things about me too.
Someone must.
Nothing blooms all year and much like the Japanese Water Iris
being next to the water is a good thing
especially if it is critical to my individual development.
Which it is.
I’m responsible for tending to me.
I am worthly of love.
Everybody is.
And I am everybody.
I’m no Yellow Coneflower but I deserve just as much love or more…
and not just during the summer months…
until the sun dies and there are no more of us on this planet left
to beautify the landscape
or to breathe.