Pot Pourri

Picture a multitude of richly scented pots of dried out flowers. Each an original mix.

It downed on me that each human being can be compared to a pot pourri. What a weird statement, you will say. Seriously though, let’s strike a bargain, you hear me out before you dismiss it, does that sound fair? Still reading? Good on you, guys. Cheers for being sports.

So where were we? Oh yes, I got it.

Back to the pots – the heart of the matter.

Picture them empty – save for one item we’ll mention later.

Every single person we meet deposits a fresh petal in the pot, and with time, the whole thing mixes and merges. Its flavors rest there, constantly evolving, matching who we are.

Whether it be a lily, a thistle or a rose, a forget-me-not or just some blade of grass, all the people we encounter leave their imprint on us. These premises account for part of who we are.

Possibly arranged around a golden core, covering a precious pearl, or yet some other gem stone, they would form the allegorical fabric of our hearts.

So tell me, now, does it all sound as weird as it first seemed?

P.S.: I would love to hear your reaction.