“I can’t take it anymore” came the sigh of my heart. My face grimaced to hear the whisper’s gentle laugh to my plea. “Well done little one. Now we can begin. Do you think one dressed in full battle armor or carrying weights every day in a perpetual bench press could ever hope to dance with abandon? Do you think such weighted and protected ones could know a gentle touch, give a hug, or even have the focus to see a smile gifted by another? Do you think the weighted and bent stem of the Poppy is hanging in an effort to ‘take it’? No little one. As long as you wore your armor trying to battle and defeat or burdened yourself trying to carry the weight, you could not know the beauty of the Poppy that once opened would lift the stem in freedom and beauty. It was never about ‘taking it’ little one. No. It has always been the giving and the receiving.”

I stared at the bent Poppy stem waving in the wind. To me it looked like it would break. Closing my eyes, I recalled the image of the red Poppy opening and how straight the stem stood. With my hands to my heart, my head bent like the bent Poppy stem. No, I can’t take it. I can give. I can receive. And the Poppy smiled….