Forever I denied the loveliness of wildflowers. Never wanting to admit I admire their wild beauty at play or that I felt like I was one of their own. So I took a long slumber that lasted more then winter always denying thy name. Ever changing and ever growing deep inside my earthly darkness. Creating weeds and spreading external havoc across fields luscious and green. Believing wild to be a treacherous thing. All consuming and never steady, never perfect as a rose tended in a garden. But then I awoke one day from my slumber and looked across the wondrous sky. Seeing for the first time all the beautiful colors that wildflowers create- pink, blue, yellow, and golden orange mixed into seas of green. I knew then and there I was claimed. Forever growing, forever being- beautifully imperfect like a wildflower. Wildflower I sang- at last accepting my name.