The barren rose bush stands alone, barren, only stems, empty, only prickly thorns remain. Winter had descended upon her. Cold and all alone, isolated so it would have seemed from the inside looking out. Years have passed, almost empty, only producing moments of small, insignificant blossoms for a long time. Forgetful of even herself. Forgetful of the joy of her own purpose in life. One day, haphazardly, noticing from across the walkway, she noticed another rosebush, barren and isolated himself. Two unhappy bushes, strike up a conversation. Unnoticed by either, the cold winter of their lives had not seemed so cold. She tells him, in searching for something, I found love in the outside sky. She, looking up, watched the birds fly, and wished she could be like the birds, telling him, flying free. Her thoughts of flying grew, more and more each day. But somehow the thoughts of flying could not get the rosebush off the ground. Something was missing. The rosebush knew not what. So she flew in her mind, alone. He likewise was missing something in his life. His thoughts, seemingly much grander, asked question of every passing thing. His thoughts were of the universe. In his mind, he flew to the heavens, to the creator of the universe, only wishing to get next to it, the creator. So the conversation began, small at first, but she noticed a blossom on the rosebush across the distance. The sounds coming from across the distance, faint at first, brought memories of the past. Those sounds were of music to the ears of her, from across the way. He grew more and more buds, just from the conversations with her from across the way. She looked at the buds, and remembered how the sounds had made her feel before, not feeling her own buds producing, which had not happened for so long. He noticed her buds, and commenting on there beauty, made her feel something more than she had felt in a long time. Still looking at the birds, somehow she began to feel content here, on the ground, more so than she had felt in a long time. His blossoms grew as well…he began doing things in his life that had somehow always been in his mind, but fearful of taking a chance. The window opened, and the music now flowed between them more freely…and both, not realizing their own blossoms, but noticing the others. Feelings so strange to both of them flooded their inside. They both then, one day, looking into a passing mirror realized that they themselves were producing blossoms, beautiful looking blossoms, each realizing that it was something the other rosebush was doing to each other. Others began to notice a difference as well. They began to stop, and look at first. But then questions from these outside sources, inquisitive at first, became more intense. They did not appreciate the blossoms, for they were so used to only the thorns. Soon, these outside sources began to erect barriers between the two rosebushes, not noticing the other across the way. They took clippers to her, cutting off every blossom that grew. They didn’t realize that this action of cutting off her blossoms, only made her produce more and more blossoms. And the blossoms grew bigger and more beautiful each time. Meanwhile, although separated, his blossoms grew more and more as well. He realized that his search of the universe only brought him back to where he was, for he realized now that the creator he had been searching, was within, not external to himself. And the more and more he thought of the creator being within, he realized that the creator had given him his answer all along, and it was just across the way. He realized that the beauty of the music, the beauty of all the words he had seen, and the beauty of all the external things passing through his life was meaningless. For it was not the external things that made the beauty of the blossoms, but the internal feelings that gave him joy that allowed the blossoms to become so beautiful. And then one day the barriers that separated the two rosebushes were removed. And although the external beauty of their full blossoms was noticed, it was the internal feelings of the other that made them realize their own happiness. The complicated things in their lives began to disappear, and the joy of the other rosebush, knowing, realizing, that they were there for each other, and would always be, no matter what. And with this realization, she now knew, she could fly, as well as he, realizing his creation, the purpose of life. They now knew, that together, they could become one, and together, both flying, could find the peace they both had been searching for all their lives.