Chicory Flower

In Love with a Blue Flower

In the early morning, the chicory flower holds the most beautiful blue — so fresh and gentle. It inspires and touches my soul very deeply, and I remember that blue is the color of spirit. As the sun warms the day, the blue slowly fades, and the flower’s head leans lower and lower. By the next morning, the blossom will have fallen away.

It makes me think of the impermanence of everything, and of how beauty not only fails to last but does not need to. What more do we truly need than a single beautiful moment, always available to anyone wanting to see? There is no need to hold on to anything; each moment is already unique, complete in itself, and will never repeat.

This flower has been part of my heart since I was a child, not only because of its gentleness or its touching blue‑lavender color. When I was six or so, my father told me he was going to show me something rare and special, and we walked for what felt like a very long time through the woods to find it — though of course he already knew exactly where it was.

When we arrived, I saw a field of these blue beauties gently swaying in the wind. I remember feeling an overwhelming sense of joy — a joy that still visits my heart to this day — and I have been in love with them ever since.

Having become a little wiser now, and yet no less innocent, I see and hear a song of spirit in this flower — a spirit ever-present, forever resonating with the divine within me.