Little Purple Pansies

I grew up to this song and think of it more often than seems fitting. Especially since I was sure it was a song about panties, no wonder I questioned why we sang it in church. Nonetheless, I grew up and learned the words and its just kinda stuck.

I dont often think of it for the flowers though, only when I am back home and see the soil my mothers hands have so tenderly worked with and the little green stems with petals of yellow gold and purple does it come across my mind. More often, it tramps across my thought processes when an occasion happens and someone doesnt man up. Pansy is my go to term then. Humans are so weak by nature. Look at the little pansies that fight to break through the dark soil, and then are forced to fight against small children that have urges to pluck them, and winds that breathe mighty air on them, and rain that must feel like ocean size drops of liquid bombs being dropped on their heads. And somehow, they manage to persevere and brighten the garden. And here we are as humans, so weak and fearful. We shy away from the truth, from taking a stand. We need to take more risks, be more blunt, venture far outside of the zone that is labelled "comfort" in girly little pink letters.

Why cant we just say what we think? Sometimes I grant that it is not appropriate, but generally we tip toe around subjects, issues and people because we are scared. Scared of what they might think, or how we might be perceived or how it may change things. Stop and think about it. Thats all just a little excessive and ridiculous and unnecessary. I am all for a little more honesty, a little more risk taking and lot more living.

I would much rather be a pansy that looks a little weather worn but is seen than one that is too scared to ever try and break through the soil. People should man up a little more often.