The Vines

A young man was walking down the road one day when he came across a field of flowers. The young man sat down and looked at the wide variety of flowers. There were tall flowers and small flowers, large flowers and tiny flowers. Some were yellow. Others were purple, green or red. All the colors of the rainbow were there in this field. As the man sat there he inhaled deeply and was enthralled with the aromas. The aromas were unlike any he had ever smelt before. It was a gentle, comforting aroma. A soft smile drifted across his face as he gazed upon the flowers. The young man gazed upon the flowers, oblivious to the passage of time.

Time passed. Minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days and days turned to weeks.

During this time he watched others come by and stop by the field. Each one would stop. Some for a few days and others for only a few minutes, yet each one left with a flower and a content look upon their face. So the young man decided to go into the field and attempt to find his flower. He started his search with the flowers closest to him. As he gazed upon them he reached out for a flower. As he grasped the flower the thorns pricked his flesh and scarlet drops of blood welled upon his hand. The young man sat back down. He was puzzled. He had seen others grasp the flowers, yet none of the other people had reacted as such. After a few hours of contemplation he decided to try again. He reached out and was greeted with the same result. More blood was drawn. The young man was not too be discouraged. He kept reaching and trying, losing more and more blood in the process.

Time passed. Minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days and days turned to weeks.

The young man had made his way into the middle of the field. He continued to reach out and grasp flowers attempting to find the one that was for him. His strength was failing as he gazed around the field. As he glanced around the field he saw it. There was the flower. The one flower that was for him. He crawled towards it on his hands and knees. His strength failing him as he made his way there. As time passed he moved slower and slower. As he reached out to grasp the flower his strength finally failed him and his body collasped into the field. Time passed. Minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days and days turned to weeks. The flowers grew on top of the young mans’ body. Slowly the body was absorbed into the field until the only evidence that the young man had been there was a scrap of cloth on one of the flowers. Soon a stiff breeze came along and rustled through the field and then the cloth was gone.

Time passed. Minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days and days turned to weeks.

As the sun set another young man walked over the crest of the hill and spied the field. The young man sat down and stared at the field in awe of its beauty.