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Flowerbed 🌸

They say ‘the moment we are born, is the moment we start dying’. A cyclic rotation, a formidable mystery, forever orbiting in our minds as we can never quite comprehend it. We’ll try put on a different spin, decode our existence, programmed to question but our theories wear thin. Why do we bother? Are we born unable to accept the unknowing? Does it not occur that everyday we die too; as we are purged to let go to learn something new? So why are we afraid? We know to every light there is shade, to every night there’s a new day... curling, unwinding on the curve of our curt existence. We have all of the clues but they’re met with resistance. We visit graves with bouquets of dead flowers, forgetting another is budding beside it, ready to blossom within hours. Does that not remind us of life after death, the expansion that follows the constrictive minds we set?

It feels seasonal, sometimes unreasonable, but perhaps patience is key; when we live in this time-warped shift, caged to what we call ‘reality’. We know everything forever changes, yet we tighten our grip. Clinging to our former selves as we sink our own ships, battling in our restlessness, shouting ‘I can’t handle this!’ But step back, and look back to the budding flower beside your shallow grave; it offers an opportunity to become something new again. We can’t avoid loss, it’s rooted in the rotation. The turning tides, the sunset skies that fill us with elation. Quickly they will fade as we naturally degrade. But everyday we grow as we lose a little more. Don’t be afraid to let go and accept an unknown universal law. ✨🦋💐

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