A little poem to warm you up on this chilly morning:

It begins as does an awaiting seed,

All the same and left to grow.

 Little by little it inches its way,

Stretching out to the light above.

 Up to the surface it finally reaches,

Feeling the air on its first leaves.

 At this point we are scared,

For all is new.

 But the seed does not feel fear or uncertainty,

It just keeps growing.

 As the roots form down below,

They cling to the soil and hold steady.

 We look to our past- always looking behind,

Our roots holding us firm in place.

 Tears are as rain is to the seed,

Each drop making you stronger and renewed.

 We hold back afraid to be different,

But as the sun warms you long to step out.

 You begin to feel special,

Something to show, something to give.

 One can see your potential,

For now the bud is in sight.

 Onlookers watch and wait impatiently,

But you know when you’re ready.

 Dawn breaks and you feel the courage,

Colors enhance, petals spread.

 You are now beautiful,

Someone to notice.

 You knew you could grow,

But you didn’t know you could bloom.

By:  Darlene Bonelli