Dancing in the dirt

A short post about a blossom I met

I saw her cavorting dangerously by the side of the road, in her sumptuous ball gown of pink frills.

A Cinderella unable to make it home.

I couldn’t help think how oblivious to her own demise she appeared.

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Her nicotine edges.

The fact she was no longer held.

The crushed blossom around her,

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She danced on.

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Curiously.

Playfully.

Joyfully.

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Her sugar blush spoke head and shoulders above the grey around her.

Those passing by, did not focus on the pavement cracks, the dirt.

They were compelled to notice only her.

The message for me?

Even when you’re on the edge, it’s still possible to radiate something wonderful.

Your heart and your personal circumstances are neighbouring gardens.

They are not the same.

Even if you know you’re at the end of the road (or in this case pavement!), loveliness doesn’t beg to be seen.

It just is.

Naturally.

You may not be able to change the path ahead and you certainly can’t reverse your own decay.

But have faith that those meant to, will heed your loving heart and energy.

Keep dancing in the dirt.

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