The Longing Flower ...

 
A bird flew by and dropped a seed,
It landed softly on fertile soil.
With time, it grew, deep roots to hold,
But the flower dreamed of fields afar,
Longing to leave and reach the sky,
Unbound, untethered, and free to roam.

"Why must I stay when I wish to roam?"
It asked as life stirred within the seed.
The wind would whisper of the wide, free sky,
Yet something held it fast to the soil.
It yearned for adventures distant and far,
But the earth, unyielding, kept its hold.

The flower grew, but resented the hold,
For its restless spirit was born to roam.
It gazed at clouds that traveled far,
And dreamed of the life beyond a seed.
But all it had was the binding soil,
Its roots too deep to touch the sky.

"Help me!" it cried to the vast blue sky,
"Loosen these roots and free their hold!"
But no reply came from the watchful soil,
Nor from the clouds that drift and roam.
Even the rain ignored the seed,
Its drops sinking deep, yet never far.

The flower watched the birds fly far,
Their wings alight beneath the sky.
It envied creatures sprung from seed,
Unfettered by the earth’s firm hold.
Ants and bees would come and roam,
Yet always it stayed within the soil.

Seasons turned and nourished soil,
While winds would carry whispers far.
The flower, though fixed, began to roam—
Not through the fields, but in the sky.
Its radiant beauty took its hold,
A miracle sprung from a simple seed.

Bound by soil yet free in sky,
The flower found that the deepest hold
Was not in roots, but in dreams that roam.