I am a flower.
I bend and lean
and stretch toward the sun;
the wind does not sway me,
for I am steadfast.

I am a flower.
I need God's rain
to wash over my face,
to nourish and quench me,
to keep me content and alive.

I am a flower.
In the autumn I am chilled,
but busy myself watching
the leaves change green
yellow
red orange brown...

I am a flower,
and in the winter I am buried,
closed in
darkness and cold.
It is lonely under the snow;
my stem snaps and I
drop my head, crying.

I am a flower
I yearn for light to once again
stroke me,
and show me its humanity.
I cry out to God,
begging for a ray,
or a lukewarm rainstorm
to melt my dark place.

I am a flower.
I need
someone
to set me erect
arrange my petals
and turn my face,
to the sun.