Rain. Rain in the light of life. We sense the softness in the air, in the breeze.
Month of March. All kinds of things start to emerge. What’s more suitable of a topic than yearning…?
Early spring.
Everything whispers.
Plants, flowers, animals, worms… and us.
We emerge out of hibernation as if that were the most natural thing to do.
Do you hear the whispers?
I want to be seen.
I want to be heard.
I want to be nourished so I can flourish.
Well, I would like to introduce to you my friend The Flora, who lives in my chest since forever.
It quivers and flutters in my chest with yearning, somehow calling from afar with its voice soft and crisp.
I’ve actually never discerned what it is saying but I know it is calling me.
Early spring.
All living beings sing in anticipation, its chorus growing day by day.
The Flora gets a bit louder too, it seems.
Do you hear the whispers?
I want to be held.
I want to be valued.
I want to be loved so I can flourish.
The Flora’s murmur sometimes comes with dull aches.
My hair gets tugged feebly from behind.
Ah, The Flora is here.
Hello.
With gentle caress of breeze on my face, I close my eyes.
I feel the urge to let go, faint and fall down backwards
Down and down I go, sinking deep into the warm water
Inward I curl, closing in on myself
I become a jellyfish, floating about in the deep sea
My silent tears roll on my cheeks for something I can’t even explain.
My chest gets tighter and burns like fireball
My blood goes warmer and flows like honey
My eyeballs pulsate, my head swells, my breath flutters
The Flora is calling me.
Tell me, The Flora
What is it that I am aching for?
What is it that has been long, long lost, so deep in this ocean
Will I find it here?
Can I get it back?
At other times, The Flora’s murmur comes with faint teases
My heart gets pulled imperceptibly from out there
Ah, The Flora is here.
Hello.
With gentle caress of breeze on my face, I reach.
I feel the urge to grasp, hold and take a leap forward.
Up and up I ascend, rising high into the warm air.
Outward I unfurl, opening from within myself
I become a butterfly, floating about in the wide sky
My silent tears roll on my cheeks for something I can’t even explain.
My chest expands and opens up like a window
My skin goes warmer and glows like sunshine
My eye gaze softens, my heart swells, my breath flutters
The Flora is calling me.
Tell me, The Flora
What is it that I am aching for?
What is it that has been long, long wanted, so high in this sky
Will I manifest it out there?
Can I bring it right here?
I am in hibernation.
What is it I choose?
Listen and act to The Flora’s wake-up call or ignore
Rekindle or leap
What am ready for?
The Flora, my friend.
Bears know. Birds know. Frogs know.
So I will sense what, when and how.
I trust myself and hold my space, listening.
I know you are calling me.
Yearning.
If I were a character without yearning, I will not awaken
If I wrote a story without yearning, it will not garner interest
If I held a life without yearning, I will not find joy or meaning in it
Listen to its calling, I may find what I truly desire
What power it may unleash if I can simply be on a path led by yearning
The Flora, my friend
I embrace you.
Written by Sanae Parra
In gratitude for Heather Fison, for the gift of stories
© Copyright 2020