You are not a rose.
You are a fresh green stem pushing through the rich soil. Your arms are wide open to receive the sun’s rays. Your desires are budding, and your roots are deep. You’re not committed to much, but you consider any option the wind blows in your direction. The air that you breathe is fresh. Your scent will soon be sweet, but we can’t yet predict the fragrance.
Swaying in the breeze, there’s nothing more natural. Tall and firm. Your stems stretch outward from your body, barely touching any other…
But you are no rose. You are more than that. You are not a traditional beauty. Not generic, but unique. Your seeds are sewn and are as beautiful. In a field of clovers…
Tulips nor posies, lilies nor lilacs. An exotic flower seen by many but experienced by few, you are too humble to appreciate your own value.
