It’s exhausting,

this blooming all the time.

Extracting every nutrient from my veins,

drawing and expending all the energy from my roots.

In my weakest and most depleted state,

this is when I am celebrated and noticed most,

colorful, exotic, intricate, beautiful.

Please stop seeking and suggesting my flowering as a sign of my flourishing.

Please applaud me as I hibernate, drop my leaves, and recoil into my quiet greening.

Please see my faded and dying petals as a sign of my capacity to grow.

Allow me to impress you not by blossoming,

but by being.