The first form: Wallflower.
They tremble and sweat and sigh because the flower may deny. They resent the power of denial.
Choice is the real power; from it movement and skill and advancement are acquired.
The flower is rooted; it is stationary and limited and short-lived.
Denial is the only power, and that is power's weakest form.
Choice doesn't belong to the flower.
So We gave the flower shapely legs. Movement came but looked too good.
It swayed and bounced and tempted will-powerless eyes.
Which of course was the flower's fault.
So they exchanged roots for vultur-I'm sorry, I mean- vulnerability.
It was an easy exchange, just required adding fear to movement.
So now the flower can move but not freely.
Always with a companion.
Always with caution.
Always with fear.
ENOUGH, said the flower, ENOUGH
Pride grew instead of petals. Initiative blossomed. And gardens full of support rather than Evel.
They were taken off guard by the change.
An acknowledgement of equality began.
Pride cannot defeat all obstacles however. The world is still unfair. For flowers -
but for bees as well.
Flowers, let us not cultivate reason for doubt or contempt or mockery.
Let us be strong and level-headed and sagacious.
No wilting to solicit pity. To use as an excuse.
Let us live as we know how to live. Without fear. With just love.
Let us deserve, perpetuate, and create equality. Selflessly.
