DAFFODILS ✓

ꕥ Marigold;

Flowers.

Do you like flowers?

What was only green a week before has become a garland of the most vibrant blooms. They are colors to weave dreams from, as soft as any silk. How they come from earth, sunshine and rain feels akin to magic, even though the science is well known.

Each one is a delicate bloom, no matter if it is a formal garden or a waste land. Their petals are delicate works of art and their hues are medicine for any soul. We bring flowers into the hospitals and graveyards, we send them to express our love, we plant them in our yards though they bear no edible fruits.

 There's a place, in this little town where flowers bloom, planted in a tiny pot, surrounding a tiny building also. A flower shop; next to it was a tiny house where flowers grows around it. Everyone in the town have at least visit this little flower shop just to calm their minds, rest their soul and gaze at the beautiful flowers.

On a sunny morning, the flowers bloomed, lit up as they hear a footstep followed by a hum; the gentle, calming voice who could make any flower bloomed; those audible vibrations are like a musical instrument playing lullabies to any soul. They are melodious songs that bring forth the light of a new day.

"Good morning, my little sprouts,"

The flowers, the sprouts, the leaves greeted the boy back with a gentle sway. The green haired boy giggles, his hair was a chorus of greens. Green skin in sunlight, the hue each leaf had a way of enchanting the soul. And his eyes were the color of earth kissed by spring rains, the hue that promises to stir life from dormant seeds, the nascent plants guided upward by the light before blossoming into the vibrant colors of a new season.

Herb. He lives by his name. His personality is as warm as a cup of tea in the winter night, his voice as sweet as stevia. His touch as gentle as the swaying leaves on the tree. Everybody loves Herb. Just being next to him you can feel yourself healed, he's a real healer. His presence is such a blessing to the world.

Herb works at the flower shop, he's very good at flower arranging. If you ever happen to need a bouquet of flowers, just go to see him! Need a bouquet to show someone how much you love them? Herb will give you his finest roses, tulips, carnations, orchid and peony all in one bouquet with a lovely ribbon. Need to apologize to someone and you don't know how? Hand them a bouquet of Blue hyacinths combined with white tulips with some lily of the valley on it, Herb will make sure you'll be fine. Want to say "fuck you" to someone but at the same time you don't want to hurt their feelings? Herb knows how! Just hand them a bouquet of geranium, foxglove, meadowsweet, yellow carnation, and orange lilies! Pretty amazing isn't it?

In that sunny morning, Herb was supposed to do a bouquet. Yesterday, before the shop was closed, a girl with twin tailed-lime-colored hair comes up with a sad look and whisper, "could you make me a bouquet that shows unrequited love?" and oh how painful it is for Herb to hear those words. The girl would come at 10 am to pick up the bouquet today, but Herb still hasn't done it yet. He turned to where his yellow tulips and daffodil where planted. Those flowers who symbolize unrequited love blooms perfectly in his garden.

Unrequited love....

The yellow petals of those flowers reminds Herb about something.

Yellow...Blond....

His hair... it was strands of a newborn day, of the sunlight that called for us to open our eyes and greet the dawn. As if starlight and wintry boughs had swirled together in some lucid dream. As fresh as a sparkling water, his hair was always combed neatly. And the color of his eyes? There is a kind of green that speaks to the soul of nature, of fresh wands of grass and new buds, and his eyes were that color, bold and beautiful. Green. Herb's favorite color. Herb shook his head when he suddenly had a thought of that person's smile. His smile was one of happiness growing, much as a spring flower opens. His voice, something Herb would listen all day rather than his favorite music, rather than the sound of raindrops hitting earth.