Growth Poem by Stephanie Collins

A chrysanthemum grows
from the instant it is conceived
up until the moment nature decides
its life must end.

It grows without boundaries,
without qualms,
almost without thoughts
about the path it is taking.

And we all know that a flowers destiny, its assured fate
is to blossom;
to bring out into the world
the joy it holds inside.

But the flower is unique
in how there is no question
whether or not it is ready to bloom.
Or if it ever wants to.


(October 2009)