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March 26, 2019

I Will Always Be a Wildflower- a Poem

I always thought myself

to be a wildflower

gracefully swaying

with the warm summer breeze

as the sunlight gently kisses my face.


A passerby stopped to admire my beauty

and as he plucked me

from my ever-expansive meadow,

I was grateful

he chose me

out of all the other flowers.


He placed me in an exquisite vase,

atop a dining table grand and pristine.

I was the center of his home and

I was grateful

to be surrounded

by so many fine possessions.


I could no longer feel the wind

dancing across my bare, green flesh

but occasionally

he would open a window

allowing the warm air

to ruffle through my soft petals.

In that moment

I felt free.


The light of the sun had faded

but I felt a familiarity

in the sky-blue shade of his eyes

that gave me hope

when he stopped to once again

admire my beauty.


I stretched myself to set roots

but soon discovered

no earth to be found

at the base of my elaborate crystal vase.

My growth had been severed

and I was drowning

in murky, stagnant waters,

void of any change.


The color of my soul began to fade

and the softness of my petals

began to wilt and wither,

I longed for the meadow-

alive with possibility

and endless skies.


I felt myself shrinking, splitting-

my beauty decomposing and uniting

with the waters of uncertainty beneath me.


With eyes void of the admiration

he once granted,

I met his gaze one last time.

And in an act of righteousness

he removed me from the exquisite vase,

cascading my fragile body

across a ground of cold reality.


As I lay contemplating my dire state,

the sun began to rise

and once again-

I felt her warmth upon my face.

I was hardened

as the heat began to dry my flesh.


And then the breeze returned-

with a rush of intensity

it thrust the remaining pieces of my being

into the atmosphere,

carrying me within its soul

and gently releasing me

back to my beloved meadow.


I let go.

I rested.

As my flesh returned to the soil

showers of clarity fell from the sky,

softening my hardened skin

and cleansing me

of what could no longer remain.


New life emerged from the earth.

I grew taller.

I grew stronger.


The next passerby did not stop

to admire my beauty,

but rather the beauty

in allowing things to be.

That is freedom,

and I will always be a wildflower.

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Natashia Newhouse  |  Contribution: 645