Blossom

There was a flower that wouldn't open its petals. No matter how much sunshine, the flower wouldn't let the sun in. The rain would pour and the flower would welcome the rain to come in, through closed petals and stay inside. That flower began to wither but wouldn't die. Day after day the flower wondered why it could not die. Left all alone in a valley bare, with no one to weep, no one to care. But there was a different light that shone bright and made the flower to cry, through rain drops that were kept inside. The flower couldn't contain the flow any longer and finally had to open its petals to the light. The light this time was one that spoke. But its words weren't words through lips, but words by rays, as If to say, "Let go and let me in." The flower couldn't resist any longer and finally was dry on its petals but moist in its soul. A feeling the flower had never felt before, a feeling of freedom, a feeling of peace, yes this flower had rest at last, no longer looking through a crystal glass, but finally looking to be. Blossom.