To Be a Flower

I am the mother of all lost
Wind-blown Soul-seeds
Abandoned, abused
Yet, equipped with an unequalled inner will
Strength to survive, to live

A spirit who won’t be denied whatever you throw at it
Through me they thrive where no other greenery lives
On the narrow ledges of existence
Clinging with deep roots
Lion-claw strength

On each soul I cast a spell of fortification
Of free will
Of clear shining spirit
A prayer that they will find loving fertile soil to germinate in
Then I cry as they blow away
Dispersed by the wind
Knowing many of them will not grow
But, in time send their own soul-seeds for me to bless

© REDCAT

Who wouldn’t want to be a beautiful Rose or Lilly.
Or a Lotus grown from fertile mud.
So many beautiful, fragrant, colourful, delicate flowers to identify with.

Yet, some of us will have to come to terms with being called a persistent weed. Fully edible, early season pollen giver, useful. Uniquely adapted to survive and thrive under adverse conditions.

Like the dandelion we grow and adapt. Nurturing those around us.
Spreading our inner light, sunshine in dreary environments.
Yet most of us fail to pollinate and evolve past our childhood trauma.
Doomed to repeat the cycle of abuse.

My struggle is that of all dandelion children. Yes, we seem to have thrived and risen above our broken childhood. But the scars run bone deep. Soul deep. And without proper treatment, without learning new ways to live. Many of us will have a lifelong struggle.

Posted in response to Poetics- To Be a Flower at dVerse.

Instamargitta / CC BY-SA 4.0



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