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,