Gentle, Gentle, Only Coaxing, no Forcing

While sitting on my meditation bench, under the pine tree in the early morning..... 

                    .......I notice the Mandevilla's 

single trio of buds is pinking up, but still tightly closed. Though July is humid and hot, almost tropical, the Mandevilla

is reluctant to respond to the lush juices cursing through its veins.

On the opposite side of our patio garden is an amaryllis, gorgeous and brazen, shouting scarlet in four directions, dripping sexy pollen down swollen petals.  

In seven months, this is the fourth time of wanton blooming for this fecund bulb.

My soul senses wisdom hidden in the contrast of reluctance and wild abandon. Is there a reason why I've deeply noticed these plants?  Sleepy insight curls in my depths, as the ash from fires of early morning farm refuse burning whorls and rides air currents above me before falling gently to the ground like summer snow on green grass.  Interior movements rise and fall in my depths, as wisdom smudges the edges between wakeful routine of day, and reluctance to leave the soft cocoon of dawn. 

While I fertilize the Mandevilla, coax it to do what surely comes naturally, photograph the budding process, and wait in eager anticipation, I never touch the swelling buds. Gentle, gentle, only coaxing, no forcing.  Likewise, I've learned not to pick at the buds of insight. In due time, if ever, I will know what I am to know.  

find the buds! 

I am not irritated at the Mandevilla while adoring the Amaryllis. I water both, feed both, and talk to both.  I see myself in them as I know reluctance and wild abandon.  Well maybe a tad more reluctance.  Ah yes, there’s that niggling insight again…..