It must have taken fortitude to be the water for so many dehydrated flowers, and the nightmare of never the thirst being quenched for yourself.
They bloomed they stretched their petals in the sunlight with pride and a middle finger back at you in arrogance.
A canvas you helped paint, answering His call of maintenance to God's distressed creation. Your saturation help flourish so many wild flowers who could never be tamed.
Others enjoy the fruits of the labor. You were hoping to savor some of it. After all it is the benefit of reaping. Others admired bouquets they never watered. And those who have forgotten, without you, their beauty and delight would have stayed dry and barren.
Your spirit is like water. It settles yet it is still needed in different spaces and areas. Yet moving, however needing a home.
Even lakes and oceans have a place to exist.
Cactus took advantage of yor nuturing selfishly hoarding you to themsleves.
Depleting you of you dreams.
The flowers choke the beauty you spread. You are moving and living and nothing in your path stays dead.
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