There are many different kinds,
Colors spread around the world
Wherever their seeds land.
Some have thorns,
Some are tattered,
Some are even thought of to be only “weeds”.
But each one is imperfect and that’s
How true beauty should appear.
Just like every wildflower,
I grow with each rainstorm
And keep my roots planted firmly where they need to be.
But when rain gets cold,
It turns into snow,
And that’s when I began to learn
That the things that help us grow can
Often times kill us, too.
Though I’d love to tell you about all
The broken petals on each wildflower,
And all the broken stems,
It’s complicated for those who can
Only see beauty to understand.
As for a wildflower that
Never had pretty petals
Or so much as a sturdy stem
Or a nice ground to plant its roots in,
That wildflower lives day to day
Only able to appreciate the finer things.
Often times it may grow limp and weary
From the simple sight of a snowflake,
And relies on its tattered petals
And its broken stem
And its unstable ground where its roots are planted.
It may not seem like a lot to the
Wildflower nearby,
But not another understand the true agony
The snow can bring a wildflower.
As for wildflowers that long for
Snow and long winters and can
Only wish for it to stay forever,
They don’t see it the same way
That the tattered wildflower may see it.
So as the snow sets in every time it comes,
There will always be that wildflower
That hides away and freezes
And forgets the rain may come again
To make it stronger than before.
As doubtful as wildflowers can be,
They have yet to see their true potential
Through each tattered petal.
They have only endured snow and therefore
Do not realize the true joys the rain
May bring them
No matter how much they need it
To grow.
The snow shows them no mercy,
As love shows no mercy for those who endure it.
As the wildflowers are tested from season
To season,
Only certain ones can live through
So much snow.
The stronger ones.
The tattered wildflowers lose their broken petals
And die.
So the next time you let the little things
Get to you,
Remember that a single snowflake
Should never make even the most
Imperfect wildflower fear the rain.
For the showers often bring
A lifetime of beauty that is foreseeable.
As for the wildflowers like myself,
We have learned to see our broken petals
And we have recognized our imperfections,
But hope to continue to grow
Despise the snow
And the rain
And the imperfections.
Because after all,
Wildflowers simply want sunshine,
They want to dance
And travel with the wind
And show their individuality.
After all,
The snow will never understand
If it’s providing too much or not enough
For the wildflowers.
Yet the wildflowers will always accept it
Because it’s all about taking chances,
Even if it kills them in the end.
It is not about the death of the wildflower,
No matter how much the flower fears it.
It’s about the life of the wildflower,
And the legacy each one leaves.