Monday, May 20, 2013
These flowers, so beautiful, were never meant to be thrown together in this coffee mug.
They are scraps.
Scraps from flower orders that I have carried out across the city since the week before Mother's Day.
One fell here, one fell there, all landed up in my car floor board or ledge or back seat.
Never meant to last this long in this rag tag condition.
Yet here they are.
Scraps, remnants of someone's birthday wish, Mother's Day tribute, hospital cheer, or funeral good-bye.
All carried love, compassion, joy, congratulations, or some such recognition from one person to another.
Together they form an experience of the joyous gift of love.
All written in flowers.