The Perfect Bud

A bud bound tight within itself has the potential of all to bloom, yet may remain in a bud state and never flourish—if that is its desire. Even in fertile soil, the roots may be blocked, as though capped on the ends, to remain infertile. It would be as though in an arid environment that contains limited resources to bloom.

Why would it—or anyone—choose that path?

There are no mistakes. It was its chosen path: to observe and view, rather than be viewed. To glimpse, rather than fully experience for itself. Yet its existence in the bud state was, and is, exactly the perfection it chose.

It is not to be judged or condemned for not becoming all that it could have been—or was expected to be. Its existence in its compact and concentrated form is perfection. Held within, and providing in its short existence, is the precise and potent serum and salve for the life it chose.

Enjoy it for its beauty in whatever form it is. As with all, enjoy them for the now state and form they are in—their state of becoming—as it may be all that is to ever be.

Enjoy each moment, each age, each pause, and each expression, whether the petals unfold in this life or not.

Celebrate it—and those that remain closed unto themselves—as beauty in its compact form.

The single bud in a vase, meant for it alone.

The loner, or the leader.

All have their unique purpose and reasons.

Accept them without attempting to change their behavior or appearance.

There is beauty in simplicity and solitude.