La Vie Est Une Fleur

 
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La Vie Est Une Fleur

It’s a simple saying.
“Stop and smell the roses.”
But I try and take the time to look at my surroundings.
I step outside, with or without shoes. It doesn’t matter.
Sometimes the more vulnerable, the better.

I feel the sun growing from my scalp down to my toes. The warmth filling me.
Outside to in. With my hair cascading over my shoulders.

Free, like birds taking flight, as the wind pulls it in all directions.
Sometimes I’ll follow it. Wherever the breeze blows me.

And, yes, I will smell the roses.
And the daffodils, and all other flowers I scavenge.
I find myself plucking roses of all colors from their roots. Gathering all kinds of flowers into my own special bouquet.
Sometimes I sprinkle a few of the small baby’s breaths onto my head. I feel ethereal.

I tend to wrap my bunches of flowers with ribbon.
Holding those roses in my arms like a mother would a baby.

As if I am Mother Nature herself.
With every petal that falls, a piece of myself breaks.
Sometimes, I believe I belong amongst them, forever.

  • Published/Poetry: Balti Soul

  • Photographer: Emily Quach

  • Model: Charlotte Gardener (Maggie Agency)

  • HMUA: Fiona Hoang (From Orge to Beauty)

  • Florist: Petals On Petals