Little wildflowers sprout from vines.
They're plain and weak but so divine.
Elder wildflowers burst from the ground.
They're intricate and strong but very proud.
They order the little ones around and look down on the innocent sprouts.
The elders forget that they, too, were once innocent sprouts.
They get too comfortable in their solid ground,
But once the elder flowers came from a sprout.
They were plain and weak and looked down upon.
One dawn the winds became rough,
And their very own seeds were swept away.
They were pushed along through a treacherous journey,
Unknowingly being sharpened.
After long the wind threw them into the dirt,
They were very much changed, but still not ready.
The seeds grew every day until they finally burst into new wildflowers.
Each day they grow more and more comfortable in their solid ground.
Then so many forget the frighteningly beautiful journey
That made them the wise beings they are now.
Poem About The Journey Of Growing Up
Journey Of A Wildflower
Published: February 2016
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