You told me you love daffodils

By Rebecca Panos

I’m tired of being tired.

A flower sighed

Wilted.

Her sisters surrounded her

beneath the sun’s unending blaze

stems began to sway 

begging for rain

She longed for a gentler light

A softer, kinder breeze

that whispered through the trees

Her roots cried out 

for nourishment

her soul sought sweet release

she couldn't bear

its weight

The Earth breeds harsh terrain

its where her weary blooms reside

But within each fragile blossom

silent strength abides

I'm tired of being tired.

Her pollen whispered to the sky

as if someone could hear her plea, 

recognize her cries

Did her mother wail for tranquility?

Did her grandmother wish the same?

Crushed under the footsteps

of careless wanderers 

was this her fate?

She looked to the clouds above,

would she ever get a reply?

Skies grew gray 

raindrops kissed the dirt of her bed

through a symphony of silent grace

she found serenity

The colors of the world 

felt vibrant again

Her sisters sensed it too

petals every shade

their mother could produce

In the garden of existence 

each bloom–  

a symbol of resilience