Life is a flower.

Life is a flower. Life is a slow blooming flower One by one opens its petals, bursting with beauty Then gently fades and fades. Dewdrops caress the bud Curled up like a fetus. Then in a cry, is torn from the belly of the earth, Its foster mother. In the brilliance of early morning hesitates, trembles and opens, Warmed by the light and the first rays of the sun. Tenderly cradled by the gentle spring wind Letting the last tears of rain fall On its still crumpled dress. Protected by its fragility and ephemeral beauty Like the child, a naive and innocent little being Frail, amazed, slowly recovers and grows Discovers life, marvels and flourishes Then rebels, head held high, braves the forces and the storms Adult, traces its path, resigns itself Accepts its fate Slowly looks at its life, Clings to the past But the future flies straight ahead And peaceful it goes out Spared by its fragile nature Assaults that could have destroyed it. The innocent hand that snatches the beauty from this flower Or the hatred that crushes it with its boot Painfully bends and curls up In a rain, sheds its fertile tears Nourishes the earth from its source.