The Golden Flower

She glowed in the evening light. Her petals shimmered as the sun’s rays reluctantly left her. She would stand alone tonight. Defenceless against the cutting blade.

The sun raced around the globe. Concerned. Anxious. Cursing at the constraints nature imposed. He sent his rays out ahead. Searching every hollow dip. Stretching behind every rock and wall. But to no avail.

She was gone.

He leapt into the sky. Blazing away at the clouds that hampered his search. His anger, white-hot, scorched the earth in his desperate seeking.

Then he saw her. Trapped in a cup on a window sill. Already her life force withering away. She smiled when she saw him, but it was too late. He watched in despair as she wilted. He lingered for as long as he could but nature dragged him away. His sorrow reflected in the weak light he shed so far away from her.

This time there was no rush. He knew what he would find. She was gone and she had taken his heat with her. She was still there. A pale shadow of what once had been. He caressed her brittle form. As he did, hope was reborn.

He called Wind and whispered in his ear. Wind reached down and carried the future. Tenderly. Carefully. Until he found a place far from the steel.

Together Sun and Wind called for Rain. Be gentle they said.

As the sun left again he smiled. For he knew. Tomorrow he would see her again. In the faces of her children.

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