Microcosm of a Good Afternoon

Golden petals adoring roaring beams,
Lions mane emerges amongst field of green.
A glorious marvel for beauty so brief,
A ferocious faith to bearing belief.

Fleeting florals don't diminish their glow,
Leaves may wither, but dreamers don't.
Just as the pride doesn't fear the fall,
Resilient stems stretch higher,
seeking sun from soil.

From prelude to wormfood;
Though our time may be short lived,
And our paths may not be linear or revised.
The rough terrain tore a hole in the ground where we both could flourish.
Despite and inspired by it all, we bloom.