In the middle of the flower field, among all the other flowers, one of them is wilted.

While the others stand up tall in all their lovely colors, one stands alone. Brown, faded, drooping to the ground.

Yet the wilted flower, the rejected flower, the saddest flower of them all

That's your favorite flower.

There's something about it that I can't see. Something no one can see but you.

You want to go into that field, overlooking the reds and the yellows and the gorgeous flowers, reaching out for that one wilted flower.

It's the only flower you care about.

Show me the beauty, the wonder, the value that you see in the flower that wilts.