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Talking Flowers

I talk to my garden too. They talk back and smile.

Stephanie Parker McKean

Flowers talk. Out loud.

Anyone who doubts that flowers talk out loud has never listened.

Close to our house is a garden that used to sing in the summer. The woman who lived there inhabited the garden caring for the flowers—planting, weeding, watering. She talked to them. She sang to them. She loved them. Most of all—she loved them.

She left.

The person who lives in the singing garden now does not care for the flowers. He does not talk to them. He does not sing to them. He does not love them. He doesn’t even notice them.

The garden has fallen silent. The flowers have lost their songs. They have lost their voices. Love gave them the joy that empowered them to sing.

Love someone—or something—today. Give them the joy that will empower them to sing.

“For love is as strong as death…Many waters cannot quench love, nor can…

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