Like pink skies and red oceans, each day is so beautifully enigmatic

Mystery and curiosity caress my day in a world so sorrowfully systematic

A chance to touch and breathe ease me into sunrise and poetry flow

I am alive, dead, and so tragically lovely... and each day I yearn for the chance to grow

One life is granted to you and me, but unshakable growth is not promised to us all

"There are wildflowers growing atop your head," they exclaim

"And I water them day to day," I say.  Life provides lemons for the soul that wants to glow

I am awake and asleep... yet each day I yearn for the chance to grow

Like Euphorbia corollata, I bloom in the midst of deplorable drought

So when the time arrives to push daisies I can do so in the most harmonious manner

I greet each day to take a chance at being the centerpiece or the sideshow

I am a loud room of silence... but each day I yearn for the chance to grow

"How ever could a chance or growth be your motivation," they scoff 

It should be the money, garments, and cars that endlessly inspire some sort of payoff 

How ever could the tangible be motivation; I cannot take it with me when I am gone you know

I am roots, buried seeds, and caterpillar turned chrysalis... each day I need the chance to grow