Deep in the forest lives a flower that knows her name. She hears it beckon to her and can’t resist its call. Late at night, while she should be sleeping, she tiptoes out the door, her heart drawn like a moth to a flame. She wanders through the forest, past trees, bushes, and ferns. She hears the sounds of nature call – tree frogs singing, a wolf howling, crickets chirping. But none of these sounds compare to the sound she feels within her heart as the flower calls her name.
She should be sleeping. It’s a busy day tomorrow, so much to be done. But she ignores these whispers from her mind, instead wandering deeper into the forest. For she can not ignore the ache put in her heart when she hears that flower utter her name. She is moving faster now, her heart ready to explode as she draws nearer to that flower.
As she catches a glimpse of the flower in the distance, she can hardly contain her delight. There’s magic in this flower, meant just for her, and she can feel it all around her. But just as she’s about to reach out to touch it, it disappears, leaving her breaking underneath the heavy yearning in her chest. She knows this feeling well, for she makes this journey nearly every night. And though she knows she will likely never touch that flower, she can never resist the call.