The Ribbon

There are flowers that grow up from the same root, and they are of the same kind and colour

The Ribbon

When one wants to have a bunch of different flowers in different colours, one must first have a ribbon to hold them together or they will disperse as if to cover a lamentation or to pave the way of a celebrity

The Ribbon

Sometimes a ribbon is more important than the bunch of flowers it keeps together

The Ribbon

Some people may say that the ribbon is not a stripe that binds the stems of flowers, but is a sphere in which the whole of the freedom and the whole splendor with which each flower was born, is confined

A ribbon creates the spherical impossibility for each flower separately, and all together, to prove their worth but in a bunch

The Ribbon

Flowers are said to have been lavishly endowed by the horn of luck and treasure, given beauty as well as fragrance

The Ribbon

The horn of luck and treasure may blush when it sees a flower trodden upon, and may take down the note to never let a flower grow where people walk

The Ribbon

Either luck or treasure may go short in the horn, and the horn may try to look like its own ghost, but there will be whispers going round that the horn of luck and treasure neglected a flower, and the horn may lose its status as the only vendor of such luxury

The Ribbon

The horn may also lose control over its worst temper, and may carry off all the field of flourishing flowers into a tornado to land them on the sea to lament the death of as many people the earth sacrifices each year

The Ribbon Seafarers often see such

scattered flowers and hear them sighing

Some seamen would vow to having seen faces in the flowers: some worn-out, some angry, some sinister, some innocent, some intent on reaching some truth

Some seamen of a philosophical trend of mind said that the flowers looked like the people who had suffered injustice, however, their ghosts inside them, and their whispers, were those of vengeance, and the sight of vengeance is never a comforting sight to see on a vast plain of sheer water

The Ribbon

If a seafarer looked up from that float of flowers landed on the sea, he would see a blue sky and the sun behind clouds in hues of temperament other than calm

The Ribbon

The sun might be hiding behind the clouds from seeing the floating flowers, the sun might be in a hurry to look down and give its rays to the land where more flowers are sprouting up in the same places

One could possibly see the pigeon of peace in one or another cloud, but the shape would change in a while, and what looked like peace and freedom of flight would turn into a mess of gathering storms

The Ribbon

The seafarer could see the sky adorned with the wings of migrating birds, but these would also disappear, and the look of the experienced sailor would turn to the sea span to mind the safety and the course of his own ship

The Ribbon

Now and then, there might be a flower looking content on the sea waves, but that rarely happens, and within a minute or two, as the sun comes round a cloud or a cloud is blown away by the sea breeze, the flower may prove to be burning with fury at its edges, threatening to light the surface of the sea to turn it into the desert of a distant planet that is still waiting for a god or mankind to turn it green or adapt all the earth colours to that of autumn yellow

When the brown winds start blowing off and down the leafage of the trees, some green leaves also braced off, the whispering of the yellow leaves can be heard because they are the most experienced, having gone through the different stages of life in full, though they may not have had the time to fully enjoy the life’s states of texture and soul

The Ribbon

There was an old leaf that had gone through all the stages of individual life, and before it turned into crushed dust on the path, it told the trees that would listen to a story before going to sleep for the winter, the story about the Ribbon

The Ribbon

There was a flower that grew and blossomed each year, but it was so lovely that nature gave it eternal life

The Ribbon

Thus the flower grew and multiplied itself, and finally its numbers grew to the extent to need to be tied together

The Ribbon

Then someone came over with a ribbon

The Ribbon

And the flower grew and blossomed no more because it did not know how to multiply the bunch in which its ranks were tied up with the ribbon

The Ribbon

But the ribbon was lovely

And that someone who brought the ribbon, put the bunch in water in a vase

The Ribbon

But the bunch withered like all bunches do sooner or later

The eternity of life and multiplication was given to another lonely flower that also needed appropriate company

The Ribbon

That other flower was clever because it had witnessed the real story of the bunch, or maybe had heard it, and that clever flower never asked for a lovely ribbon to have its own ranks around for company

The Ribbon

It simply scattered its own copies and was happy to be sure that they existed in welfare and flourish

The Ribbon

And the separated flowers bloomed as if each one had an own vase and an own ribbon that blessed each one and all with eternity

The Ribbon

The only thing that reminded of the first flower and the bunch was the idea of ‘vase’ and the threat of ‘ribbon’