The faces of flowers tell stories;
each face a different tale of glory.
None more remarkable than that
of Hibiscus, a woman of hidden depths
born from rough and heavy seeds
in rocky yet fertile soil.
Hibiscus bursts forth bold blooms.
Her color lights up dark rooms.
Held tight and upright to the light.
Suddenly, Sun eases her open
to the brilliance of her display.
She awakens and turns her face,
ready to say what she needs to say.
Such boldness does not last long.
A ballad, no symphony, her song.
Her life is a striding measure,
a dance to her own tune, all day long.
Life is short, no matter how strong.
Some flower cycles are not prolonged.
Still, I treasure each face she creates.
Their smiles hold me in place
and allow me brief moments of grace.
annarino writes 