Mid-west soil gave birth to a tender plant,
but her roots were short lived upon the desert plain.
Grafted to the north, in the midst of the cold,
she bloomed amid cold and rain.
Growing heavenward, and blooming towards the sun,
a lovely blossom of deep white petals began to emerge,
between the frozen and the fire, it withstood the elements,
often times sensing it would be submerged.
A fair desert rose standing proud and tall,
grew against the cold steel and hard stone wall,
through cracks in the rock, she gathered beams of sunshine,
but often the rays were broken by the frigid and unkind.
Still, she persevered, striving for the light,
cursing the darkness, seeking release from her fight.
The caress of nearby flowers both with stamen and pistil,
left her without purpose, without true love and all the things she missed till...
In the deep south, a lonely bud was planted among the flowers,
no parents to call her own, just settled among cold rising towers.
Tender was her bulb, as they graced upon her face,
taken, loved and caressed in a paradisiacal place.
Growing among men with a hint of feminine guidance,
her variegation of red turned to pink amid crowds in silence.
Drinking in the rain, and wilting in the sunlight,
her inflorescences broke forth in the dead of the night.
She too saw the cracks in the wall made of rock,
and she caught a glimpse of the rose to which fate did mock.
For a brief moment in time their language was pollen,
mingled with love and infatuation among all the fallen.
Hope awaited in the prism of her future,
another flower was forming for her that was similar.
Neither until that moment contemplated the existence of the other,
yet both knew in an instance they were made for one another.
Time was a cruel master, it played on and on and on,
and the flowers grew separate along the wall made of stone.
At intervals they gazed as their sepals spread far and wide,
revealing their beauty with nothing to hide.
At last they reached the edge of the wall they had climbed,
and together they basked in the sun, full grown, beautiful and well-timed.
Their stems, they did bend and together they crossed the wall walk,
their filaments and anthers sharing what's been held by their stalk.
Intertwining and growing the two become one,
and their beauty together apparent to all who look on.
Their petals stand open and then pistils await to receive,
the intimate seed that they both need to breathe.
These two flowers are you and I, mi amor,
and it's true that you love me, and you, I adore.
Never forget that our journey was long to get here,
and always remember that first glimpse through the crack in the wall my dear.
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