A great and loving man once wrote a list about the things he loved about me; the things that inspired him and which he held himself as a mirror for me to see them for myself. And in that mirror not only have I seen them, I see them in their entirety
"I love your honesty"
As new days dawn, I perceive honesty as a different concept to what I have known. It still enscapulates the harsh truth; the realist bite of a sharp wind on a face already moistened by rain. But it is so much more. It is the rain, it is the wind, the face, the ability to feel it all upon one's skin, to know the skin you are in.
Honesty is quiet acceptance of an entirity.
Like a child stepping out of the darkness with a single daisy in one hand outstretch for the taking. The honesty is perceiving not only the child and the endless space of darkness from which she came; but the beauty of her and her flower is its simplistic singularity.
Honesty is more than a chastising voice that tells the little girl that she does not hold a rose. For while it is true the daisy is not a rose, honesty is the ability to see the long slivers of white that protrudes from a sunshine of pollen. Being able to see the fines hairs that soften an otherwise woody stalk; Being able to see the culmination of the small, fine details and be taken aback but the beauty of what it is; not caught by what it is not
For years, and still at times, my glasses would slide down the nose from a sceptical eye and pluck every petal. I would watch them fall, critsing that there were not those of a rose. That they were not perfect in shape, or radiant with colour. That they were not beauty as I perceived it. It was plain; and it was not good enough.
Luckily with age perceptions change. I am the daisy, simple yet beautiful. I am the little girl, holding out myself as I am and unpeturbed by what I am not. It may not be grandiose; it may not fill a room with pundent sweetness, nor cativate the eyes with shades of robust crimson. But what I have is what I give, and what I give is all my love, in its simplistic singularity.
And I honestly couldn't think of anything more beautiful
