Whether it will happen or not,
Choose your attitude wisely.
Like the flower that saw grey clouds
Hovering above, swept in by thirst.
Yet went through the day without a drop.
An inch she grew, without a slant.
Her petals glistening with glee.
Sparing her last for the company of bees.
That night she payed homage
To the soil that fed her roots,
The trees that broke the wind
And the hills that braved the storm.
"Best you play your part," said the moon to the flower,
"And leave the rest to the circle of life."
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
Whether it will happen or not,
Choose your attitude wisely.
Like the flower that saw grey clouds
Hovering above, swept in by thirst.
Yet went through the day without a drop.
An inch she grew, without a slant.
Her petals glistening with glee.
Sparing her last for the company of bees.
That night she payed homage
To the soil that fed her roots,
The trees that broke the wind
And the hills that braved the storm.
"Best you play your part," said the moon to the flower,
"And leave the rest to the circle of life."
