Sometimes the flowers would die
And she would keep them
Sometimes they would die
And she would dispose of them.
Depending on the mood, the frame of mind
Would decide the outcome.
Whether they were a memory of a once beautiful fragrance, or a representation of a good thing coming to an end.
It would all depend.
And so she could see, that this was like the rest of her life, her dreams, her passions, desires and lusts.
Whether expansive or contracting, all dependent on her.
Whether opportunity was hurdle, and set back was guidance, and failure was hidden success.
Neither existing without the other, in a balanced life - duality of the mind, body and spirit.
The world, the light, the shade, was all dependent on her and the way in which she would see.
Her reality was just a mirror of her outlook.