A whole Sunday frenzy with the family left me exhausted. My cerebrum is about to crack. My faculty is in oblivion and my anatomy is defunct. I'm debilitated, sapped, bone-weary..whatever you call it - - - I am not in the best of auras.
I can't help but miss the flowers I used to get during earmarked seasons. The fragrance the flowers give satisfies not only my nasal lust but as well as the yearning of my soul. The bashful naivete it emulates help abates the negative vibe one has for the day. I want to dream of tulips, carnations, lilies and roses falling from the sky and replenish my fervor for life. *sigh*
The glorious scent of the blossoms reminds me of happy childhood memories during the summer month of May. The blithe shouts of children on their way to "Flores de Mayo".. The sound of the sprinkler in my Lola's garden.. Those were the days. *sigh again*
The fruit of the Earth blooms to touch the simplest of hearts, the most primitive of souls. My tuckered-out one, included. For without which, this big blue marble of ours will be boring. This macrocosm will be dispersed with an array of crestfallen and depressed existence.
God bless the flowers!
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