The flower of my creator,
Here simply to bloom in creation.
Life is dependence,
On soil and sun,
On others nearby,
On the blessings of the body.
What am I?
Small, fragile, brief.
Pride? Legacy? Control?
Rather to sway with grace,
Dancing in the fiercest and coldest gale,
The warmest summer breeze,
The refreshing rain.
Ever stretching brightly toward the sky,
Drawing from the wellspring of fortune,
Radiating color and gratitude in every moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment