I explore the metaphorical voice of borage, a plant my grandmother grew in her garden. Borage is exclusive to the slopes of Mount Damavand in the Alborz Mountains in Iran. Grandma always appreciated all the blessings Borage gave to her, and she always wanted to share them with us.
I still can picture Grandma talking to her unique borage plants while watering and weeding them. Grandma picked fresh borage petals to lay them out to dry under the sun every afternoon and inherited the pretty pinkish color on the tips of her fingers.
Borage, also known as Magic Herb, has been generous in healing humans' pain for centuries. Borage herbal tea has a mild and distinct taste and doesn't taste like medicine at all. She is aromatic, flavorful, and soothing. Every spring, borages rebirth and grow in Grandma's little but spiritually infinite garden. Borage bushes surely missed Grandma's kind touch in the last four years since she was gone.