the flowers of the world
blossoming bursts of blue and pink and red.
they’re in meadows there and
cracks in the city sidewalks here.
the flowers of the world are wild things
and they bloom because they want to,
not for the warmth under the sun
or the happiness they bring
but because they can
and with it they wish their own petals into the world.
there are poppies, peonas, petunias, and parsley.
they’re green with some color here
and more over there.
they host bugs in their pots
and bees in their petals
because no one quite knows hospitality
as the wildflower.
may there come a day when I am only ever amongst
the beautiful blossoming things of the world.
may I have escaped it and all and found a sunny glade
as a lily-of-the-valley or the fairest of fairy rose.
they bloom because they want to,
those beautiful flowers.
I wish it upon a star that we
may all find a calm mossy hollow in the woods
and join them beneath the sun.
happiness would be more abundant if we all bloomed
Poem and photography by Hazel J. Hall
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