the prayer plant

   

“Who are you to ask for anything more
Do you wait for your dancing lessons to be sent from God?”

 

The story continues, I have been procrastinating for so long. It was probably because I did not know how to go about this one. I never thought that by simply putting it out there, I could let this plant grow inside of me.

The story starts with an introduction, why on earth would i write about a prayer plant. Actually, a friend of mine got it for my birthday. And i truly admire how this plant grows. But it’s not just how it thrives, there’s much more that i am amazed by.

Maranta Leuconeura - known as the prayer plant from the fact that the leaves tend to fold together at night, like a pair of hands. Looking at how it functions, how it lives on day by day, night by night. It got me thinking, how it relates to us, as a human, for me.. as a creative specifically.

We are all made up of thoughts, of feelings. It controlled our emotions, it controlled our actions. It makes us crave for it’s existence. 

It blooms, or we could say it ‘prays’ at night. Just like how our thoughts grow fondly at night, how we could be the opposite of what we are in the morning, just because of the ‘angin’ malam that senja brought to us. It made us feel so, deeply, like you can taste, like you can hear your feelings. You could even feel it in your bones.

Just like us, living a hectic and well-planned life. We’re always taught to stay on track, set our priorities right, do things that are needed to be done. But behind all of those are thoughts that dwell in our minds during such hours. Thoughts that may change our perspective on certain situations, thoughts that could create an image of a dreamy future.

But when the morning comes, it sleeps. The darkness envelopes, and the powers of dissolution take over.

Yet in that hour, the mind awakens, and we realize that we are in fact finished — that this is it, this is all there is. Everything reappears, light, daydreams, ideas that overwhelm us, and yet there are still moments when we are able to respond to our own inner night music—a serene song of sweetness and relief.

The Moon is a lover. It is always leaving, it rises and sets, it disappears from view, it reappears again. Sitting alone in an empty sky, and suddenly turn radiant with joy at the sight of the Sun's returning light.