I wander through a virgin forest, reaching out to touch every living, breathing soul growing across my path. My eyes are drawn to a brilliant blend of purple and white, her beauty seemingly exotic, raw, and naked against a background of deep hues of brown—the perfect flower for a Polaroid. How lovely she must feel to be captured as the only beautiful thing in an empty world.
Although small, she still manages to stand out. Delicate and enchanting, the flower’s dazzling purple core and white embroidery reach for the sun buried between dizzying layers of trees. Healthy, dew-covered leaves rustle as they are caressed by a gentle breeze. Brightly colored bees gather around in celebration, and birds fly by to drop off a melodious note. Wanted by all but rarely found, she is hidden in the most exotic areas. Stretching deep into the soil, her roots anchor against constant, battering rain. As each flower blooms with rainfall, she only grows more elegant, and with each blossom, new possibilities unfold.
When I spot a passion flower, I pause to imagine myself in her skin. Like looking into a mirror, she is a constant reminder of the person I yearn to be: beautiful, strong, and loved.
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