The Path of Least Persistance

The Path of Least Persistence







Alone and cold I walked along a path of narrow width and gravel bottom. The quiet wood was deep and green, smelling of wetness with the dew collecting rapidly on the soft and creeping ivy beneath my aching feet.  I noticed a flower before me under a weeping willow.  Its petals were peach with flecks of what almost looked like gold. It was like no flower I had ever seen before. I was mesmerized by its beauty and intoxicated by its fragrance. I leaned forward. My hand poised in ready waiting to pluck the flower from beside the tree.  Then the flower spoke. “NO!” It was too late. I had already unearthed the bud. “You should not have picked me up and ended my fragile life” she said. “A spell cast by an evil witch was meant to cause me strife.” The flower turned its face to me and smiled. “I had resolved to stay here to live without my friends. But you have come along and now my time here ends.” It laughed a little bit and then began to change. I was perplexed by this unusual display until the vines started to grow around my feet. I was not able to move as they grew ever higher. “Do not be scared," the little flower said to me. “I must go, but I enjoyed the time that we have shared. I do hope that you realize your mortal life’s been spared.” Slowly the flower’s face took human form. Petals into ears. Stamen into a nose. Stalk into a body. Leaves into arms and roots into legs.  As this happened to the flower, the reverse happened to me. Legs turned into roots. Body turned into a stalk. Hair and ears turned into petals. Arms and fingers became leaves and thorns. “I was once like you. Young and human, walking on this path. I had seen a flower’s beauty and felt the witch’s wrath.” The flower had turned into a faerie with golden hair. Her wings like a hummingbird as I became the flower. I tried to speak just one last time to the faerie standing before me. “What will happen to me, Faerie, once you fly away?” She turned to me and smiled again, her face like golden light. “Someday maybe you will be set free,” she said “as you have done for me.” She started to rise and I tried to cry, but alas I had no eyes. “I thank you for coming here, but now I have to go. The thorns you have should protect you, allowing you to grow.” A strange and gentle peace came over me as I bloomed into the flower she once was. Alone and cold I sit along a path of narrow width and gravel bottom. The path of least persistence is now my only home.