Treat your relationship as if you are growing the most beautiful sacred flower. Keep watering it, tend to the roots, and always make sure the petals are full of color and are never curling. Once you neglect your plant, it will die, as will your relationship.

Takes birth in me,also, dies in debris.I am a Potpourri.A mix of dead petals,effusing divine fragrance.Walking on the journey,of controversy.I am a Potpourri.

My path is full of petals–I have swept it for no others.My thatch gate has been closed–but opens now for you. It’s a long way to the market, I can offer you little– Yet here in my cottage there is old wine for our cups.

That droplet of moisture that had slipped from me like a tear seemed almost to tell the story of my life. It fell through empty space, with no control whatsoever over its destiny; rolled along a path of silk; and somehow came to rest there on the teeth of that dragon. I thought of the petals I’d thrown into the Kamo River shallows outside Mr. Arashino’s workshop, imagining they might find their way to the Chairman. It seemed to me that, somehow, perhaps they had.

When the sunlight hit the trees, all the beauty and wonder come together. Soul unfolds its petals. Flowering and fruiting of plants starts. The birds song light up the spinal column and harmonize the hippocampal functioning.

In love, treat your relationship as if you are growing the most beautiful flower. Keep watering it, tend to its roots, give it lots of sunlight, and always make sure the petals are full of color and are never curling. Once you neglect your plant, it will die, as will your relationship.

Infatuated painted clouds, enamored of our silky bed-lagoon, reflect with silent tremors your sweetest of the kisses...Whispers...Then lightly consume its shining sunset skin with loving smiles greeting the lacy starry night ahead...Making our senses dance so softly stepping on to the adorn petals of the place no one else knows...

The mint from your breath, the milk from your breast, the best of your mind, now in its worst state of condition. From the womb to the tomb, as a mild flower, you break your petals upon blossom, and seize death openly. Leaving your fragrance to spin and dance, one last time before being blown away.

We all have thorns in our flesh. All of us. Love is when we stay and help someone pluck out their thorns one-by-one and they do the same for us. Love is also when we pluck the thorns out of our own flesh, one-by-one. But today, the world teaches us that we shouldn’t even see those thorns, that we should only see the petals. As a result, we don’t know how to love ourselves and we don’t know how to love others. Stay with the darkness, and bring that darkness into the light. It’s there, look at it.

When the petals of the heart unfold fragrance spreads across the valley.