holding up a flower it is called just this.
we name things.
it is not a flower.
the ultimate reality is beyond words.
we created them
are bound by them.
Like a lovely flower, Bright and Fragrant, Are the fine and truthful words, Of the man who means what he says.
Like garlands woven from a heap of flowers, Fashion from your life as many good deeds.
The perfume of sandalwood, rosebay or jasmine, Cannot travel against the wind, But the fragrance of virtue, Travels even against the wind, As far as the end of the world.
Dhammapada, IV Flowers, translated by Thomas Byrom