I found the brightest yellow petals shed from their stem on the path and picked them up. How gracefully they flowed from their orange centre to their bring yellow tips, how soft they were between my thumb and forefinger. I noted instantly that their little black spindly (for lack of a proper descriptive word) seed-holding centres looked like little butterfly arms, making the petals more resemble little caped butterflies than flowers.
I was overcome with the thought that all humans can really do is destroy or improve upon what already exists, but they cannot truly create anything new. Anything we seem to "create" is frivilous and distracting "improvements" (perhaps only the area of modern medicine can I say this is not true...but even then, one will agree that modern medicine has become obscured by greed, and mostly seeks to cure illness which only exists as a result of the other modern instruments of self destruction marketed as improvements we think we've made in other areas).
Nature does not destroy anything. Everything "dead" in nature lives on and has a function and a purpose. Human beings create things with no lasting purpose. We live on an ugly, nonexistant line while nature spins forever in her perfect circle. If this is a reflection of our internal nature, it frightens me.
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