By Elijah Garza
If I were a flower, I’d be a sunflower,
turning my face to the light each hour.
My growth fueled by the sun’s warm kiss,
roots in the earth, my anchor, my bliss.
This is new growth, reaching for the sky,
but also deepening roots, where truths lie.
The storm may bend me, the wind may call,
but I rise again—steadfast, tall.
If I were a flower, I’d crave the rain,
its tender rhythm, its soothing refrain.
Each drop a promise, each cloud a guide,
nourishing the spark I hold inside.
My petals stretch wide, golden, and bold,
embracing each story, both new and old.
The garden around me, a vibrant embrace,
teaches me strength and grants me grace.
Through seasons that challenge, through frost and fire,
I bloom with a quiet, unyielding desire.
For growth is a journey, both tender and wild,
a dance of renewal, both wise and child.