‘It was a day or two ago
or was it three
when the bright little purple flower
bloomed In all its glory
and the birds and the bees
and the butterflies
danced around it
as if in a trance
the sun shone white and bright
and brighter and warmer
and hotter
till the bright little purple flower
dwindled, collapsed and died  
‘cause it could bear it no more
but not before
as if as a part of its divine duty
bequeathed a bunch of seeds
from its ***** to the hot air
blowing over its dying body
delivered into the arms of mother earth
some other place
some other land
and the bright little purple flower
would rise again like a phoenix...
Circle of life