Flowers for Your Vase

by Chrissy Lee Zschomler

Here is a letter addressed to young girls everywhere:
who sit in the top of the castle's darkest room,
Waiting and staring out the small petite window
hoping you will be let free very soon.

You sing and you dance and you laugh and you smile,
but your heart doesn't always reflect those verbs.
Your heart is a leaf trying to blow in the wind
but is caught in the gutter and is stuck to these curbs.

Is your heart an old desert that needs an oasis
A cop car that needs something young to chase?
Is your heart in search of flowers delicate just for you
To fill your young heart's fine china vase?

Are your eyes two teenagers that watch television;
seeing plots unfold you wish were your own?
Is your spirit shifting into a wallflower shape
Growing in corners at parties all alone?

Are your hands two nets trying to catch a butterfly
Running and chasing until your breaths leave?
Is your mind one to fill up high to the rim
of trying to find out what's right to believe?

And your ears; are they waiting around to be filled
like cups with water of compliments and sweet?
You earnestly yearn to know that you're tres belle!
But alas,you're still clueless; and your heart is still petite.

So you knock over your heart-vase onto the floor
hoping it shatters into millions of pieces
because you want your cup to fill MORE
You want something, young girl; that never quite ceases

To show you how loved your petite heart really is;
or to take whatever love you may have inside it's walls.
This past action is not a stealing matter dear;
Your love is a gift to whomever it falls.

Please understand this life is not easy,
Though it is a beautiful wonderful chase;
Please hear that you hold your own beautiful flowers
to place inside your own beautiful heart-vase.

Maybe he will come with flowers of his own,
Yours and his flowers beautifully arranged;
He loved your delicate petals just the way they were
both before and after you went off and changed.

For now, young girl, your heart is a beautiful vase,
and God has flowers picked perfectly for you;
His own petals dancing in the light when you smile
They even sing in the depths of your frowning eyes too.

Adventures? or Discoveries?

"So your favorite color is green?"
"Yeah! For the longest time."
"Why is your favorite color green?"
...did he just ask WHY my favorite is green? That's weird. That's crazy. That's different. That's poetic. That's...genuine.
"WHY my favorite color is green?"
"...Yeah? It's nature, isn't it?"
Wow. Talk about reading me like a book.
"That's a huge part of it. But I've always grown up with it to. It's my eye color, birth stone... but nature is a huge part of it."
"Huh."
"I don't think anyone's ever asked me why my favorite color was green before... good job."
He laughed under his breath.
"What's your favorite?" I asked him.
"Blue."
"Why?"
"The sky is blue."
Do we share a brain?
"Seriously?! That's so cool.."
and the bell for class to begin
rang.