I look around and I think what else could my imagination see?   

A flower so simple and delicate, but to a bee it is no such thing. It’s a tower that piles high above ground making cities and cities of thee.  

And when seeds are dropped for, for they are no tower, they turn into a house. That will one day sprout above the others become a tower no doubt. 

But when they die they break away and leave their spirit behind. Leaving hope for those that still have a chance to tower high and be alive.