“A bud is a flower-to-be. A flower in waiting. Waiting for just the right warmth and care to open up. It's a little fist of love waiting to unfold and be seen by the world. And that's you.”
“I think of the flower in the bud: huddled, compressed, dark. Yet somehow it feels the night, knows moon from sun. It waits...waits.”
“How does the meadow-flower its bloom unfold?Because the lovely little flower is freeDown to its root, and in that freedom bold.”
“I've waited a long time to show these flowers how pretty you are.”
“Don't wait until people are dead to give them flowers.”
“It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to die.”