my flower..

i passed by a garden yesterday. filled with hundreds of flowers. all shapes, sizes, and colors. all with their own unique look, smell, & textures. none of them alike, yet all beautiful in their own way. that's what choosing a woman is like. . .

as i became overwhelmed with choices. i begin to wonder what was perfect for me. i won't lie, the more developed ones caught my eye. the pretty blooms, billowing at me. shapely voluptuous curves of the petals. made me want to reach out and caress. nestle them against my nose and inhale their sweet fragrance. yet some, after a while i noticed the insecurity of expectation i had placed on them. although fully developed, they weren't ready to be placed in a vase and admired. their cuts were vast, and soon they began to wither from the bitter taste of hurt i noticed they had become damaged. yes, what was once an obvious choice begin to become complicated.

as i walked on, i passed by the pretty one's, swaying back and forward in the breeze as if the sun glistened off of their essence. yet as i examine them the flaws were hidden, but were numerous. it wasn't until i started to peel back the petals was i able to truly see them. which colored my view. how can something so pretty, be so ugly on the inside? worse than that, hate themselves more than you ever could once you pull back their outward layers? i realized i no longer could depend on the outward beauty alone to reveal that perfect flower.

so as i looked intently at the thin, plump, bushy, and even the damaged flowers..i begin to see that choosing the right one wasn't an easy task. i needed something else. something more concrete. a plan of action, so to speak. an godly intervention. as i gazed upon the rows of flowers, the sea of beautiful blooms. i relied on God to show me the perfect one.

even if i can see her imperfections, make them invisible to my eyes, hands, and nose. her beauty should be evident, undeniable, and beyond belief. it doesn't matter if the guy next to me can't see it. all that matters to me, is that when i look at her she's the perfect representation of beauty. in every form. every aspect. every layer. the flaws are what make her pretty, and i love her regardless. flaws and all.

allow me to appreciate all of her. from her root, to her stems, to her buds. her natural essence. notice the curve of her stalk, the intricate markings and softness of her petals. let me enjoy her as she is. yet have an everlasting lock on my soul. i want to look at her 50 years from now and remember her the way is see her today. unchanging unwavering beauty.

let me be the gardener. tend to my delicate flower. which i stand over watchful, attentive and protective. give me the foresight to see the potential in her. if her blooms are undeveloped. if she hasn't had time to grow. give me the patience to wait, groom, and allow her to blossom into the woman that she is meant to be. not only for me, but for herself. i want to help her spread her roots. nurture them instead of cut her down. not just pollinate her, but savor her sweet nectar. become addicted to her honey suckle drenched aroma. choose her and only her. she is the star of my garden. she is the centerpiece in my arrangement. she is the rose that grows through the cracks of my soul. her beauty, unmatched. her preservation, unmatched. her worth, unmatched.

she is my flower.

[october challenge: day#20]