I am a flower.

My petals are plentiful;

They caress colors of power.

Listen to my story of blossoming, it’s incredible.

I am a flower.

The raging storms do not wash me away.

They serve as a cleanse, a shower.

I dwell in the silvering linings around the cloud’s grey.

I am a flower.

I may shrivel in the frigid winter,

But never has my stem failed to tower,

And never has my blooming body failed to retake its figure.

I am a flower.

You may rain on me,

But you’re simply aiding my growth by the hour.

You see, water, tranquil or turbulent,  is how I come to be.