White Flowers
White Flowers
When strolling through a meadow green
I smell and see how my flowers feel.
Some are small and only started tasting the solar beam
They don't yet know how corrupted their land might be...
Some stand tall with their spears high—
That pierce souls which collapse and cry.
All of them in stillness bloom—
So beautiful even when darkness looms,
So firm against the sudden air blow,
They embrace the summer & winter flow...
And I keep watching how this Earth is building
Its White Flowers named our children.