In the death of a flower
there is still the hope of life.
Under the blanket of snow
the tiny seed rests in sleep.
While lake waters begin to freeze,
there are hopes of renewal and what is to come.
The season’s clock begins to stir
the little plant to get ready to emerge.
The gentle touch of the sun on the ground
delivers the rich heat,
while the pure water from the splattering rain
christens the new seedling so it can burst forth from the earth.
Here is the new life that the death of a flower
hoped to give the earth.
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