My desert flower

The love that seeks itself that finds itself that is played out. The love that comes our way with the beauty, the fragility, the complexity of a flower…
Marion Sister Warain

I looked for a long time for this rare flower which only grows in remote places.
Who does not let himself be discovered so quickly? She only appears on our path when fate has decided to place her on it.
It carries the strength necessary for survival in a hostile environment—the wisdom of arid expanses, the maturity of lands swept by winds and tides, millennia.
She’s a challenging push.
And I am not a flower of the desert. I don’t understand her. I watch her every day, make sure she is developing well. Corrects the curvature of its stems, waters, breaths, strokes.
I even asked her: “Why aren’t your petals open yet?” Why is it so complex and slow? “.
I think pulling on the leaves will make her grow faster… Controlling, mothering madness.
So she would need air and space, land and time. Support.
To support life is not to encourage it to push and move forward. To keep life is to watch it evolve at its own pace, to follow it. Watch this flower bloom little by little from afar, in presence, in consciousness. Be there.
See in it its highest potential, its greatest aspiration, and accompany it. Fall in love with the next shoot, the lively and fragile petal to come, see in these flower buds the best that slowly emerges. And impatiently recognize the beauty in it.
Feb. 2012. Morocco, land of fire. Sahara desert. Walk in the silence that suffocates me, and let the images emerge.

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