A flower that stops short at its flowering misses its purpose. We were created for more than our own spiritual development; reproduction, not mere development, is the goal of matured being—reproduction in other lives.
This dandelion has long ago surrendered its golden petals and has reached its crowning stage of dying—the delicate seed-globe must break up now—it gives and gives till it has nothing left... There is no sense of wrenching: it stands ready, holding up its little life, not knowing when or where or how the wind that bloweth where listeth may carry it away. It holds itself no longer for its own keeping, only as something to be given: a breath does the rest.
Lilias Trotter, Parable of the Cross