Live your Life

Walking in my garden, where the flowers' petals pulse with my heartbeat, and the trees' leaves sway with my breath, I notice a large, gloomy flower that has petals of foreboding black sitting at the very distant end of the path by which I walk. I feel a chill run down my spine. That is the inevitable end of my path? All this time I had walked so briskly, so eager to reach the next section of my garden. Pangs of regret fill my heart-- but then the color of the flowers radiate and the warm breeze brushes my hair as I realize: Sabrina, you aren't there yet. Around me the flowers still pulse and smile as, for once, I stop and actually look at them.