If a flower were to give me advice
I hope it would say
"make bad paintings for ten years, its funny"
"balance things on your nose before you eat them"
It might look down at it feet and say
"Dig a small hole"
It would pause and sway in the wind, dance in awareness of its own goofy
embodiment of Pansy cliches
"take everything I tell you as a grain of salt"
"someday you will season a fine steak with it"
"never be too serious for too long"
It would say
"Never go to church unless you are serious"
"You will always miss somethings"
"And some things are better never had"
It would tell me often about how thin its roots are becoming.
It was always old, it always felt young. Containing at all times the frailty
of babies and old people.
All the while it would urge me