The tiniest green sprout
Breaks the cracking soil,
The severe heat drought
Makes growth quite the toil.
The frigid wind's clatter
Makes many plants cower,
But that's no matter
For chrysanthemum flower.
Underneath the ancient leaves
It bursts up to the sun,
Unfolds petals from its sheaves
Its life has just begun.
Petals pile in succession,
Rows on rows on rows,
Chrysanthemum's progression
Is from decaying woes.
Bringing joy for all who see
The yellow petals bloom,
Proof that there can be glee
As season's bringing doom.
Walk along the autumn path,
There's little there in view,
It's ready for winter's wrath,
But there's still life anew.
YOU ARE READING
Fallen Crests, Rising Suns
PoetryWhenever you're blue, You know what to do, Read a poem through, Or maybe two. A collection of comments on the good times and the bad - in poem form. Even if you can only see the fallen crests of life right now, remember, there's a rising sun waiting...
