A lone flower,
Swaying in the wind,
It’s a world of grey,
And yet it lives.
Look at the bloodless red,
Dancing upon its petals,
Look at the greens,
That make the bed prosperous.
I wonder at,
Its roots upon a grave,
A symbol of life,
Of all we can save.
Looking at the flower,
It gives me pleasure,
That this rocky domain,
Can yield such a treasure.
Dreamers in the Sky 