I'm angry. I'm hurt. I want to throw dirt in someone's face.
Why? Because someone stole a plant out of my yard today.
Perhaps it seems like such a piddling little thing to be upset about. But I'm trying to make things beautiful, and someone brought their ugliness--their thievery--into my life. Opened the gate and came within six feet of my house to pull off their dastardly deed.
Where were my dogs when this happened? Did they sound the alarm while I was out walking one of them and the thief knew I wasn't there?
I have my suspicions but I don't want to accuse without proof. Perhaps tomorrow I'll walk the neighborhood and "warn" neighbors that someone is stealing things--just to see their reactions.
Or post a notice on my gate that warns of poisonous plants. :)
Or write a poem...
They came in the night. Bold in the darkness
And stole the treasured white flower from its pot.
They left behind anger and hurt
The mark of their ugliness
In an otherwise beautiful oasis
The pot where the flower had been
Now forlorn and saddened in its emptiness.
How could someone as ugly as a thief
Their treachery will surely
wilt its delicate white petals
will shrivel its shamrock-shaped leaves
Until it turns brown and dead
Perhaps they will then discard it
Just as they stole it without care
As the roots lie in the dirt
The rain will fall on its faded foliage
Reviving and renewing
Until its shamrock-shaped leaves push upward
to peek out at the world
And eventually the delicate white flowers
will open cautiously
And share their beauty
A post script...The morning after this incident, I discovered the missing flower tipped on its side and hidden behind another plant. Had it been there all along? Or had some repentant thief brought it back? Or--my favorite theory--had this plant dropped into another dimension for a time while I worked through my emotions, and then reappeared on this plane when I was in a better state of mind?