Perfection.

Flowers. Each single one is so petite and frail but they also have a unique beauty. Doesn’t matter if they’re in a flock, each one catches your eye as a ripple of wind brushes their petals and stealing some of their sweet scent and capturing it within the soft breeze. The flowers aroma gets split up within pure oxygen, skimming along more and more petals. It flutters just like the insects that feed on its pollen up and up to the brightest blue of the sky and rests upon the cotton-soft clouds.

And when it rains, mother earths perfume sticks to the translucent droplets as a sign of hope. The water crashes and runs down the architecture of buildings, woodwork and glass whilst the flowers manage to seep into the inner confines; it brings a smile across the residents face as they begin to see the positive side to the sky’s tears. When the droplets seep into skin, they carry the hope throughout the blood stream, which then infects the body with the hope.

The sun will always rise, always set. It’s a known fact. And when it rises it trails the fragrance along every ray, multiplying the smell as the light it refracted or when the light is captured the scent is captured with it. Even in the worst weather, there’s sunshine somewhere, light to guide the way.

A rainbow is the sign of unity between light and water, a mutual bond shared with the whole world. It’s a sign that no matter how hard the rain lands, there will always be sunshine, and the cycle will repeat because that’s how life goes - negatives lag behind the positives, and positives always follow the negatives. It’s a fact of life, but a never ending sign of hope.

When the skies cry, it’s one of the best times to ever rejoice in it’s glory. There’s nothing like feeling the raindrops running along your skin as your smile illuminates through the clouds, your sways to the rhythm of the rain and each strand hugs the other. Your soul will escape your body, and dance beside you. It’s one of the few moments you feel truly alive.

And whenever I stare out at each unique flower, its petals carefully crafted with precise detail into a perfect circle and the convivial centre my mind always wanders to other natural beauties that change within a split second. The sky, the rain and sunshine, rainbows and the once-in-a-lifetime moments that stay with your forever. To someone each thing is a sign of perfection, something that can upturn the corners of their lips or make them take a second to appreciate the little things in life.

But whenever I see any of these, I’m constantly reminded of the colour in my life. Him.

He’s a bed of flowers, he’s the sun giving the flowers something to survive on. He’s the rain that falls down on the world, he’s the precious feeling of happiness as you fight against the downpour without a care. He’s those seven colours smeared against the clouds when sun and rain collide.

He’s every perfect moment to me.