The Blue Flower

02.04.2016

This little piece of fiction was inspired by a single blue flower I found growing in the mountains of Peru. In case you don't study German Romanticism in your spare time, you might want to know that the blue flower is a symbol of the unity between man and nature, artistic perfection, desire, love, passion, spiritual rebirth, etc. If you want to know more about it, I've included some links at the end of this post.

 

 

The Blue Flower

 

It was a morning unlike any other morning. Only, on this morning I was far away from anyone and anything. I had wandered into the mountains, following a voice that whispered secrets of a strange somewhere that was out there, waiting for me. A somewhere where I would find everything and finally stop wandering.

 

And so on this morning that was unlike any other morning, I strolled alone and lonely through a beautiful meadow full of wildflowers. The colors were brilliant and infinite and everywhere I looked I saw them dance in the sunlight. Yet their beauty was lost on my tired heart. I kept my eyes mostly on the ground and fought back the sadness in my soul that told me it was all useless and would all end with darkness anyway.

 

That's when my lifeless eyes spotted her; a tiny blue flower peeking out between the tall green grass. Her round, sapphire face shone on mine and I dropped to my knees, lifted my arms to the sky, and cried, "I have found her!"

 

I dug deep into the earth and pulled out all her roots, tucking her safely in my pocket. I carried her across the world to my small and quiet house where I planted her in a pot on my desk. I kept her there for years, turning to her whenever I felt lost or needed inspiration. And for years she shone her azure face on me and filled my heart with love. My writing became pure and my life felt simply meaningful, even though I had no idea what meaning it had.

 

But one morning I woke up and my heart felt restless. My writing felt imperfect. And I couldn't quite remember why I ever thought this simple life of mine had held meaning. I ran to my blue beauty for help, but she was wilting. I gave her more water, I moved her closer to the sun, but it only got worse. Desperately, I cut her stem and dried her, pressed between the pages of my favorite book, hoping to preserve her blue forever.

 

I bought a glass frame and hung her over my bed so that every morning I woke up to her pure color, as blue as the sky on a cloudless summer day. Every night I reminded her why I needed her. Ever morning I told her what she meant to me. Until the morning came that I woke up and her color was gray.

 

She had turned to ash over night. I cried, I prayed, I begged, but her color would not return.

 

So though I was old and worn, I packed my bags and returned to where I had once found her sprouting between the thick grass and endless wildflowers. When I got there the flowers were in bloom again, only this time I could see no blue. The reds and yellows and oranges and purples were brilliant. The wildflowers shown with all sorts of shades I had never seen before. But there was no blue.

 

I wandered and wandered and the hours turned into days which turned into months and finally I dropped to my knees and cried. I cried a broken apology for taking what should never have been mine. I had never deserved her brilliance and in my greediness I had taken one of the world's most beautiful flames and extinguished it. I cried and vowed never to take again, but only to worship and love. I cried until I was out of tears. My body was weak. I was so tired of wandering.

 

So I lay down and let the reality come to me: I would never see my blue beauty again. I wiped the wet streaks from my cheeks. I closed my eyes and felt the world start to drift away. The songs of birds were getting quieter and the warmth of the sun was getting colder. I opened my eyes for one last look at the place where I thought I would find everything, and just before I closed my eyes again I could have sworn all the flowers in the meadow had morphed into a blue more brilliant than I had ever known before.

 

 

 

Some links about the philosophy of the blue flower:

 

http://www.sol.com.au/kor/19_01.htm

 

http://americanrepertorytheater.org/inside/articles/fall-2010-guide-what-blue-flower-anyway

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_flower

 

http://jakartaglobe.beritasatu.com/archive/heinrich-von-ofterdingen-tale-of-romanticism-and-the-blue-flower/

 

http://global.britannica.com/art/the-blue-flower-literature

 

And here's a whole book about it that I highly recommend:

 

https://books.google.com.pe/books?hl=es&lr=&id=dnuHFTbVok8C&oi=fnd&pg=PA1&dq=novalis+blue+flower&ots=UwZD0zkyr3&sig=JXjIfjnt7_oTz4w96lRcPCGmTrk#v=onepage&q=novalis%20blue%20flower&f=false

 

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