Daffodil

Once there was a field, damp, and bare,
Then came a rainsrorm there,
The wind blew a little seed
Not of a grass, tree, or reed,
But that of a daffodil.
Not just any daffodil,
But a color changing,
Galaxy emanating,
Flower.
A flower with power,
The power to be,
Whoever she wished to be.
Growing in the field of rams and ox,
Much prettier than kept in a window box,
And she is best friends with one Ram and ox,
Aries, and Yin-Fire are their names.
...And this field, one with many names,
Grows inside that which was born, the day the flower bloomed.