May Flower

There was once a crisp, yellow flower that had not recently bloomed but had bloomed a while ago, in the previous season. Not a shed of deterioration had fallen upon this golden beauty, for it had been standing freshly firm and stargazingly strong since its bloom. 

A large spring storm was approaching, one which screams destructive havoc among the unprotected crops, fields, and gardens. Luckily for the resilient yet now endangered flower, a frail yet attentive old lady named May had noticed the sturdy, yellow flower outside of her farm fields. Seeing as her three sons have begun tending to protect the overall farmlands to the best of their abilities from the upcoming storm, little old May takes it upon her power to gently pick the flower from its place, bring it inside her home, and enclose it within a blank, leather book. May watches from her kitchen window as the ferociously gray clouds bring about a mightily terrifying storm. In her hand is the book in which the freshly picked flower lays, and in her head is a prayer for safety and scarce damage this hefty storm will bring. 

The next morning, the countryside is met with clear air, fresh winds, and a calming yet luminescent ray of delightful sunshine. A rejuvenated and rather relieved May makes her way from her bedroom down to the kitchen, yawning and determined to begin her project for the day. For weeks now, her three sons have made concerning chatter about possible war erupting within the country. Having lived through not only the immediate fears and horrors of war but also the tremendously taxing after-effects, May hopes the trivial talks are not true. However, May is not young and naive, but rather old and wise, and has the fierceness within herself to utilize all the luck she can gather. 

Alas, May puts on her morning robe, sips some fresh cow’s milk, and clears her kitchen table to set up her supplies. Lastly, she pulls the book containing the freshly picked flower from the kitchen bookshelf and removes the flower from between the blank pages. Putting back the now empty leather-bound book, May begins to carefully and concisely craft the beautifully bewildered flower into a resin charm. By the end of the afternoon and awakening of dusk, May has completed capturing the resilience, obtained and showcased through the gorgeous yellow flower, into a pendant. May returns upstairs for a brief moment to dig through her treasure chest, which firmly sits at the end of her petite bed. Within an instance, May pulls out a beloved deep brown leather necklace chain she got as a nearly married woman, who was just beginning to see the brink of war emerging.

Throughout the night, May is accompanied by vivid dreams of both herself and the wondrous, wild flower. Intertwined with visions of the beautifully golden, sun-dripped flower swaying in the wind, are visions of herself as a young girl frolicking in the wilderness. Her eyes filled with joyful innocence and playful curiosity. The world around her was anything but minuscule, despite the minds of others’ portraying such violent ignorance. Such small-mindedness has caused continuous war and despair throughout the history of mankind. Unfortunately for humanity and the surrounding entities, the history of mankind is far from complete. 

May’s dreams bring about feelings of comfort among the underlying understanding of what life has been, what it is, and what it has the potential to be regarding the topic of war and all of the anxiety-ridden attributes it brings along with it. Reflecting on herself as the wondrous child she was with wide eyes and glowing radiance, she notices how much she mirrors the similar qualities of the yellow flower she saved from the field. Standing strong and tall in one place for so long, yet flowing in the wind with utter freedom and tranquility, May realized she once had that relentless strength and virginal optimism, hence why she picked it up, secured it, and has now immortalized it in a fashionably portable way. 

Among the flashes of pleasant and insightful reflections, May’s dreams begin to bring about yet even more realizations of herself and the life she has lived this far. Her subconscious can’t help but jump from reflecting on when she was a young girl to reflecting on herself now, as an elderly woman, living a quiet, frail life on her farm. Her mind had become tame from her wondrous innocence once she had become a wife and mother. Her mind had become even tamer from the trauma and tribulations faced by the impacts of war once she had lost her farm, her husband, and two of her five sons. Though not as riddled with joyful wonder and curious innocence as she once was, May is neither as disturbed with horrendous fear and sorrow as she once was after her great losses from the war. Thus, she concludes that she can continue to stand strong and tall, much like the flower she has wrapped around her neck as she sleeps, longing to never take it off, as it reminds her of who she once was, who she is, and who she is meant to be while she faces each day as it comes. Now and forever.

The next morning, the sky is disturbed. The sun is shining, but with an eerily dull radiance. The air is stale, and the lack of any whimsical winds brings an unsettling sense of worry. It’s clear to those who have chosen to be awake and aware, no matter how much restraint and regret doing so, that a storm is coming. The most horrendous and gut-shattering type of storm that does not come from Mother Nature, but instead from the horrors of humanity. The faint yet alarming sounds of cannons and stampeding can be heard emerging from the far distance. May steps outside into the morbid morning air, wearing her robe, reciting a prayer, and tightly clutching her newly crafted and already dearly cherished lucky charm necklace.