The Politics of Roses

Saturday, May 17, 2025

Good morning, The Wonderfell Way.

Sweet songbirds of Spring.

Hello. O/

Quite a reception of chirps and tweets and whistles this morning.

Maybe a choir woke you up today, too.

I hope you noticed.

Welcome back.

Thanks for reading.

On with our show...

Peace on the mind again.

The fight we sometimes call Life doesn't feel like one.

Like a silent victory happened while you slept. Good morning... peace.

What to write on? What to say?

When The World works with you, what do you say?

O/

That works for me.

Hope The World reflects the same for you, too.

Coffee or tea, you and me, words to give sound to a sunrise.

That's what songbirds are for, to give each sunrise a new voice, to tell us what day it is, a daily planner page for Mother Nature.

Flowers and daydreams feed the same natural necessity.

Each rose, daffodil, and chrysanthemum holds its own fantasy, tells its own tale with every colored petal.

Have you noticed as much?

Nature wastes nothing, even Science says so.

So what's the use of the beauty of flowers?

Surely one color blossom is enough to feed any kind of bee.

Why the Crayola box of blooms Mother Nature?

Why the fashion show?

Color means so much more than we know, allow ourselves to see.

Not politically, racially, culturally: Naturally.

Life wants expression.

Our eyes are spectral crystals of blues and browns and greens.

Our skin the color of the dirt that best served the intensity of the sunlight of where our ancestors were born.

We look for differences to categorize when we should see reason to celebrate.

There's a reason a rose is yellow, is white, is red.

There's a reason for your skin more than the flesh can say.

A politics of roses is as absurd as the politics of pigmentation in our Nation.

There's a reason your skin is that shade, and Nature, and I, and roses know it.

It's as simple as simply Life celebrating living.

Vibrance is the language of flowers.

Color in the world is The World's creative expression of the dream called Life.

Color is The Dance of Creation.

I hope you're brave enough to see it.

A box of black and white and gray crayons makes possible only contour prisons for shades of dark and light.

Open your camera app, set the default filter to B+W, shoot the world on your phone screen.

Watch so much nightly news on the same screen and the pictures both look that way for the same reason.

Left aisle, Right aisle; Black and White, Either/Or existences show up there.

While the whole World dances in Color.

Shame on us for limiting our experiences of what's beautiful about us.

If every songbird wore the same color and sang the same song, I'd go back to bed.

A lifetime listening tells me if that were the case, the birds wouldn't even bother to wake up.

There's wisdom in beauty, divinity in variety, take care, maybe notice it, and make wonderful your wonderful day.