Bloomed Lily in the Midst of Summer.

this poem is supposed to be an analogy, between a small flower afraid to show its true colors and a young girl, nervous to show her true self. tell me what you think?

fragile, blooming petals
hidden within the velvety buds.
beautiful, colorfully deep afraid petals
hiding their wonder from the world
with feelings like a little girl.

shy and nervous,
hesitating to show themselves,
all of their radiating beauty and
whirlpools of deep colors.
they're afraid to trust,
hold a deep fear of not being pretty enough.

after all, the tiny lily
does not hold the passion of a rose,
the happiness of a sunflower,
or the love of a violet.
how could it ever compare
to the other flowers' beauties?

so it stays unbloomed throughout spring,
when all of the other flowers bloom
and bring scents of wonder.
it has no confidence in itself,
like a growing young girl,
who is slowly becoming wary of her new forming body.

until one day, early summer,
when the rose buds have already grown and died,
when the sunflowers have lost their rays of happiness,
and the violets' love has faded,
a young girl, grinning with
the joy of summer break,
and the glee of freedom,
runs along the meadow the unbloomed lily is in.
with her bare feet, the girl carefree and whimsical
stops in front of the flower.

Little flower, why have you not yet bloomed?
Little flower, why have you not yet blossomed into your whirlpool of colors?
Little flower, why have you not shown your beauty?
Little flower, why have you not let your fragrance fill the air?
Little flower, why have you not opened your petals and allowed the bees to get pollen?

the cool breeze rushes the flower,
and it sways left to right, right to left,
as if shaking its head.

the young girl, she nods,
as if she understands the flower
I see, she whispers as she reaches for the flower,
I had the same feelings.
You look around you and see all of the others,
the roses, the sunflowers, the violets.
and you think you can't measure up.
But you know something, little flower?
It's not about measuring up,
or feeling like you are worthy compared to other flowers.
Each flower has a job,
and each flower is beautiful in its own ways.
Even you, little flower.
Sometimes, you just have to open your petals,
spread them out like a butterfly,
and have confidence.
Be who you are, little flower,
and you can arise the passion of a rose,
bring the happiness of a sunflower,
and the love of a violet.
But more importantly,
you can bloom freely,
and do what you were made to do.
Shine your own colors.

with soft, steady hands,
the young girl opened the bud of the lily,
and spread out its petals like a butterfly,
showing off petals of magenta
mixed with lavender and a sky blue.

the young girl gazed at the lily's beauty,
as if in a trance.
She whispered something so soft,
that it merely wafted into the dry summer air.

But the little flower that had now bloomed heard it.
Believe...

the young girl skipped off into the distance,
smiling with the glee no longer of summer,
but with the pure bliss of a bloomed lily
in the middle of a hot summer.

Reviews

[Stormy Weather]

Wow, I love this. And I like the stanza where you are comparing the lily to the other flowers....."after all, the tiny lily
does not hold the passion of a rose,
the happiness of a sunflower,
or the love of a violet." I like this because it rings quite true. The feeling of inadequacy, insignificance, they're all feeling I think we all have at some point or another. (Too philosophical? lol) But the lily finally bloomed :) What a happy ending, and a great analogy. Kudos.

[SpokenWord]

What an interesting story and is that true about Lilly flower? This had a good meaning behind it as all things have a reason for being and is special in it's own way. I like how she talked to the flower and how they agreed as only a child could communicate to a flower and understand. Very rich and nice poem.