Talking to the kissing flowers about love..
Thoughts fighting with each other in the head and I nearly miss the two double hibiscus kissing and hugging up in the bright sunshine.
Thinking of the loved one, of how loving nows, means leave the loved one alone, back off. Of the disconnect which has followed the brief wonderful connection and my inability to read the signs, of anger at wishing for a meaningful connection, nd then letting go of the anger to realise that 12 years later, that neither of us seem to break the cycle or imagine a new way of nurturing each other.
Dear kissing flowers, love is on my mind as I look at you kissing and thinking that it was chance that the tree, today, put you together in the nice embrace and you join with each other to make another beautiful thing.
And that you will die tomorrow , die like the connection which I thought possible.
There are these two buds, standing apart, on the same tree. The buds will bloom , standing apart, but together on the tree which offers blooms regardless of who is looking. That even apart, there will be some shaky foundation on which we stand and through which we are not really apart.
And so I remember and learn, that in shifting my mind away from the disconnected loving, that it is possible to enjoy love in other places, like watching the two flowers kiss on a hot sunny day.
This is poetry! thank you
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