A Gem in a Railroad Tie

Once I met a flower, that blooms silently in a room full of smoke. The flower spread fragrance that seems so familiar in my olfactory vocabulary. A night blooming jasmine, a bit of freesia, a touch of wild flowers in Caribbean Island, with a decent sweet vanilla. It blurs in the air, intangible tangible kind of thing that will always make you wonder, is it here? 

Then I saw the flower swings, it dances. The flower follows the wind that asks it to play, but a butterfly came into the room and resting on the petals of the flower as it told the flower to just stay. It's like, the butterfly has hypnotized the flower. The butterfly made some promises, convinced the flower to believe. And the flower believed. 

But you know what? The butterfly didn't mean it. The butterfly actually resting on the petals of the flower to catch a beautiful butterfly next door. The one with sparkling wings, dazzling patterns, very stand out compared to other butterflies. The butterfly flew away, with the beautiful butterfly that I mentioned, and become a lovely duo. All the warm conversations and a little laugh that the flower and the butterfly did are just an illusion. Promises, remaining as something that's been forgotten and breaks everything. The flower should be known from the beginning, that a flower would never become a butterfly. The butterfly is not its match. 

Days pass, the flower still blooms silently, in a more graceful way than before. The hope of becoming a butterfly will never subside, though it will always be a daydreaming. The flower still thinking about the butterflies that become a perfect couple since that historic day, Thursday night as the flower can remember. The flower didn't even care about its feelings that is hurt anymore because all the flower can feel is that, the butterfly is a good and kind creature that will always melt its heart. The flower prays everyday and night, wishing to be free from the mantra of the butterfly that still haunts, and never leave. 

The flower stands still, never been picked by anyone, and became a portrait of an independent soul. 

Artwork by Katie Daisy

I give my respect for the big heart, for the strong commitment, for the love of being in love, that the flower always preserve. The flower is on the threshold of a mesmerizing life coming in the door. Knock, knock.. 

Even though I salute the flower, there's something that still makes me confused and wondering. How can I differentiate the feeling between love and admiration then? Or is it lust? When it's simply about, how I swam into your words, I dove in your soul for the finding of what you call the one, and I kept it that way even if I'm not the one. 

I know you're a gem in a railroad tie and I'm glad you've found your love.