Flowers are a thing of magic. They appear out of tiny buds that shows the infinite potential for life. From the smallest seeds, a tree grows and grows, that tiny seed holding all the information and potential energy needed to produce the frangipani flower I hold in my hand. That little seed only needed a bit of nourishment from the sun, the rain, the earth and her soil. Then, little by little, with some patience, its full potential becomes reality.
The tree eventually produces hundreds of gorgeous, fragrant and colorful frangipani for all of humanity to enjoy. I love the water drops that rest on each petal after a rain. The way the orange centre fades out into yellow and eventually to white. How each petal has a beautiful curved line to it, all emanating from the centre nucleus. Each flower, slightly different, with a small marking of imperfection showing how life has touched it in some way. A black spot there, a snail bite here, maybe starting to wither at the edges after having fallen to the ground. The flowers don't last long, a week or two at most and then they're gone. Disintegrated and rejoining the soil of the earth, giving back so that the next generation of trees and flowers can grow. Contributing to the rebirth of the tree once again come spring. To the potential for life to blossom season after season.