April Prompt: Budding

Warmth. Light. Air.

The sun pours life and energy from its lofty seat.

A gentle pulsing echoes through each cell: exhale, inhale, exhale.

I can feel the silent urging: open, open, open.

Not yet, I think.

Her hands are tentative as she holds me. Her fingers brush over me, soft as a breath. She is filled with anticipation. High expectations. I will be her first, she declares aloud to no one in particular. Two ants pause to exchange messages on a leaf stalk.

I will be her first.

Open, open, open.

Not yet.

I am more today. I am full inside. I contain everything that makes me wanted and desired. But still, I remain coiled, closed, protective of my secrets. She marvels at my form and imagines how I will be. She didn’t know that I would appear at all, she says. She was starting to give up hope.

Even so, she still toils away for those in her care. It is the right thing to do. And there are others who she admires as well, for different reasons than she does for me, she says, even though she doesn’t know what I am capable of.

Open, open, open.

Not yet.

It storms today.

Ozone lingers. Rain lashes across the landscape. I quake in the deafening rumble of thunderclaps overhead.

Open, open, open.

It is too cold. I hold myself tightly and wait. Exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale.

I drink. The water is sweet.

Not yet.

Open, open, open.

The sun crawls up the sky and I can feel myself relaxing in its welcoming heat. There is life in me, waiting to burst forth. Carefully I loosen each layer, subtly shaking them out to bask in the light, revelling in the warmth. With every tender reveal, more and more of my treasure escapes my embrace.

She walks out and immediately knows. Her footsteps are light and happy as she hurries over. Her lips brush over my petals as she breathes and breathes and breathes me in.

“You are so lovely,” she murmurs over and over, raptorous. “You are so, so lovely. What a scent. What a delicious scent. You are lovelier than I have dared to imagine.”

I am the first in her life to grow, the first to bloom, the first to present her with sweet, heady perfume.

She can’t stop breathing me in, and her face is alight with joy.

I think, I will live forever.