Sprout

Flowers can sprout any time of day

Any year, any month, second or hour 

Flowers, I’ve heard, need light to grow

Such that their petals stay pretty 

This little flower blossoms by sun

Craning her neck toward crystalline 

Light she soaks into her narrow frame

Slowly nudging sleepy eyes to wake

Shoulders broad to take the heat 

Arms stretched out to lie on clouds

Cheeks kissed with rosy rays 

Eyes afire against the smoky mirror

The flower has hidden away for years 

Locked behind gates in solitude

Skyward facing she knows no other

But the sky-blue pasture and its fluffy sheep

Flower, at times you are strong and robust

Able to withstand the harshest of winds

The onslaught of rain and even the cold

Weathering mother nature’s sticks and stones

But daylight comes and goes, without stay

As the heat bears down with wicked strength

The flower grows sick from the high demands

She collapses as the light wears on

She remembers that night is soon to come

Taunting her wake with its blood black eyes

While darkness settle she loses all hope

She waits and bides the fading time

As the sun waxes yonder horizon

The flower sees color in the once blue sky

Last of the rainbow till tomorrow come

The flower wilts in the face of the setting sun

The flower has no friends in the night

No critter stirs in the silent hills 

As slumber overcome her flower mind

She gives in, withering, dies

By dawn the flower will sprout once more

And so each day passes, the same and same 

A cycle of rebirth condensed in a day 

Leave her be, she needs her rest

In just one round of sun and moon

The flower has risen only to fall 

Let her sleep with dreams tonight 

So tomorrow wake she is ready to bloom again