I see the bud slowly opening

Its pale petals to the sky.

The sun welcomes it with its warmth—

Warmth of love.

And life garlands it with pearls of dew.


The flower sways gently in the breeze—

Breeze of comfort.

It nestles in the safety of the leaves,

Inconspicuous—but beautiful.


The breeze builds to a gale,

Rocking the frail stem.

But the flower stands still,

Fighting with courage,

For it wants to live to see life,

To be greeted by the sun every day,

To sleep under the night’s stars,

To lend nectar to the bees,

To do what it can for the earth’s peace.

To die, only when the petals

Shrink to nothingness.


I see God’s every creature as that flower,

Fighting to live in a cruel world.

Yet longing to give and help,

Longing for joy—and peace.

Every heart is a soldier,

And a beautiful flower.

A flower that will give

Its radiance to the world.

A flower that wants to live,

Not simply survive.

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