The symbolism was attractive.
Someone had planted cut carnations into a dead tree’s trunk
on the path I often take with my dog. The flowers were still alive, but when
cut, even flowers know their destiny.
Like feelings.
So why plant dying flowers into a petrified container?
Perhaps because it is difficult to just throw them away. Because they were once
given with a kind gesture. Because they expressed what words could not.
Like a poem secretively written for the right time to read.
In the right setting. By the right person.
… It was a last gesture by someone who left it on the path
many others take. Alone or with their dogs. Perhaps to let them know that these
carnations were once alive and fragrant. That they said what words could not easily
say. To a special person.
And yet, there was hope. The one who now shared the
carnations with strangers also left a bottle of water next to the cut tree trunk.
As if to ask for their help in keeping the flowers alive for a short time. And
celebrate them both for what they once were and what they have become.
The symbolism was attractive, but I did not water the
flowers.
May 14, 2022
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2022
