They say it’s the rainy season,
But this sweet hibiscus might disagree.
Roots reach out for a hint of moisture
Only to find dry fissures.
Body wilting,
Edges curling
Under the heat of the
Unrelenting sun.
Is it possible to need less?
To hold out for the rain?
Leaves start to yellow and fall to the ground.
It may be unrecoverable.
The sky grays,
The wind picks up
Tugging on every branch.
Pounding rain bounces off the parched ground
Smacking the undersides of the few remaining leaves.
The clouds break.
The ground is soft.
The leaves are green.
Out pops a blossom.
No ties to suffering.
No lingering struggle.
Just strong, vibrant.
Resilient.
How is it this cut flower, detached from its roots, has the capacity to re-grow itself, to expand in a new form, and when it seems to be at the end of its existence is capable of new life?
I am whole.
