If Time Were a Flower

"Mama, I want to hear another story!" "My sweet girl, how about a story about time?" "Time... what is it?" "Time, my dear, is like a flower." "Like the dandelions blooming in the fields?" "Yes, just like dandelions. Time grows, blossoms, and bears fruit. We call its petals 'moments.'" "And then what happens?" "Then, it withers into a thousand pieces, leaving seeds that drift everywhere..." "Mama, does that mean it becomes the 'future'?" "Guess what it turns into after that?" "It turns into so many flowers, blooming into a vibrant sea of blossoms, right?" The mother didn't have time to answer as the sunlight from the window warmed the girl's face. That gentle figure vanished once more into her dream. She opened her eyes— "If time were a flower..." she murmured. "It would surely become a sea of flowers," said the serene girl. "Of course it would!" Exclaimed the playful girl, cheering at her masterpiece.