The Girl with the Daffodil Growing Out Her Head

This is a little creative piece I wrote in the middle of last winter, coming out of my difficult stage, inspired by letting yourself be nurtured – physically and creatively again, and coming to life again. 

The daffodil was always there, not visible to the naked human eye. It wilted, and thrived, depending on whether it was warm or cold.

And most of the time, it was summer. Most of the time, that flower thrived. It wasn’t always completely open, nor was it completely in bloom, but it was always there.

But then, one day, it turned to winter and that daffodil died – wilted and faded away until there was nothing there – just a blank space. Until that moment, the girl had never known it was there. But now that it wasn’t there, she was so very aware of it.

As the daffodil died, so did the girl fade and wilt, until she was no more – just a shadow living in a flimsy shell. She just existed, unable to make, unable to create or do anything but breathe.

The world was darkness and life was dull – a struggle, because there was no daffodil left to grow.

The soil was old and dirty and no use to anyone.

And so, she started to disappear, until the cold had frozen over the soil completely and there were no signs of life left anywhere.

The sun disappeared completely.

But, bit by bit, as the sun came out again, and the earth warmed up, the roots of that flower came to earth again.

Soon, the top of the shoot pushed its way back through the soil and the sun shone down on it. This caused it to grow more, until there was a long stalk and a bud, unopened.

Gradually, that bud opened, until there was a burst of life and the flower opened wide – to its full glory and the sun beamed down on it.

And the girl smiled – full of life and happiness again – and went to make something.

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