Gemini 23. A man attuning to the vibrations of a myriad of different flowers.
Alfardo Bartan spent his life in the woodlands and forests, befriending all the flowers he might discover. He spoke of their personalities, their likes and dislikes, their powers and their secrets. As he grew older he ate nothing but flowers, saying that the flowers had asked to become a part of him. Flowers, spring water, sunlight and sleep were all that sustained him.
Toward the end of his life his aura glowed with shimmering colors that reminded those who sought him out of the northern lights, or the colors that shimmer from snow on a clear day. Bartan told people that he had become a flower himself, a flower that mutated at will into any and all flowers. Seekers came to him and swarmed about him like bees, drinking in the nectar of his wisdom, and those suffering from illnesses of both body and spirit were taken to him and bathed in his emanations.
Sometimes he said that he allowed the flowers to sing their songs through him, which were whispered melodies, irregular and ever changing and like the voices of birds, though more delicate and elusive.
When he died those present watched his body slowly evaporate as the surrounding woodlands and their blooming herbs and trees took on a brightness that filled the air with a glow that seemed not of this world.
It is in that meadow were he passed that the Flower Institute of Peth was built, which is said to have the most beautiful gardens to be found anywhere in Aab.
After having read a poem many times a man finally sees a deeper meaning in it.
Barzan Tinari had spend all his life reading the poem “Azandra,” by Jerosim Redalf. He loved to discuss it with his friends and tell them of all the many subtleties he had found in it, and the countless layers of meaning that it continued to reveal to him.
One day a friend said, “Barzan, you must write a book explaining all you have found. It would indeed be a large book, probably more than one volume, and I am sure it would fascinate and delight many, as your insights into this piece has enthralled your friends for so many years.”
“No,” answered Barzan. “I used to contemplate writing down my ideas, but I do not want to give to people that which they might have the delight of discovering themselves. Of course I give them to you and the others who come here, but it is only because I become so enthusiastic about my discoveries that I cannot contain myself. But I would be sad to think that someone might be reading my interpretations when they might be reading the poem itself.”