We are not the rose; trimmed and cultivated according to the
Pieces taken off to please the aesthetics of the male eye.
Desperately hoping that sharpening our thorns will relieve us of the
trellis binding us to growth that is not naturally ours.
Fitting into a construct designed by a patriarch long ago, before the
world more clearly demanded to be changed.
Perhaps we are more like the wild tiger lily.
Reflecting the wild spirit on the inside.
Growing abundantly and freely with the natural graces of sunshine,
rain and minerals to nurture us.
Absorbing the wisdom from deep within our roots.
The tubers holding the memory of when Dao became One and One became Two.
The balanced transformation between Yin and Yang.
In love with each, other yet holding deeply to their inherent qualities.
Giving way to each other in mutual empowerment knowing that every
moment needs a slight refinement in their relationship.
So too are we the black-eyed Susan.
Yes, the vibrant colour of our petals shining clearly to the neighbours.
The dark, deep depths of our centre just as exposed.
The richness of soul making this flower what she is.