Form and function were once happily wed. Over time, balance and harmony were disrupted as form sought to prevail over function, or function over form. They separated. They divorced. Recently, at times cautiously, at times boldly, they have begun to flirt again. There is the vague remembrance of when things were better, when they worked it out somehow, despite and still.
Roses are buds, and beautiful, one petal leaning toward adventure. Roses are full, all petals forward, beauty and power indistinguishable. Roses are blown, startled with life. Their budding is a purpose; their fullness, more purpose; their blowing, a renewal.