The pale bud dances in the dark
Swaying to the beat of the wind
Playful, but purposeless.
Like rain, words pour down on her soul
Enriching and enlivening.
She puts a flow to them
Minute and nearly unnoticeable,
Their effect, though, packs power.
She plants herself, growing stronger each day
Taking in the magnificence of life
And rewording it into magic.
An effervescent white radiates off of her petals
Glowing with purpose.
All she needs is a bit of wonder and words
To yield a new grace.
The power of words, of poetry, has transformed a young bud into
Something that can spread the beauty of language to other souls.