Song of the Flower

I am a kind word uttered and repeated 

By the voice of Nature; 

I am a star fallen from the 

Blue tent upon the green carpet. 

I am the daughter of the elements 

With whom Winter conceived; 

To whom Spring gave birth; I was 

Reared in the lap of Summer and I 

Slept in the bed of Autumn. 

At dawn I unite with the breeze 

To announce the coming of light; 

At eventide I join the birds 

In bidding the light farewell. 

The plains are decorated with 

My beautiful colors, and the air 

Is scented with my fragrance. 

As I embrace Slumber the eyes of 

Night watch over me, and as I 

Awaken I stare at the sun, which is 

The only eye of the day. 

I drink dew for wine, and hearken to 

The voices of the birds, and dance 

To the rhythmic swaying of the grass. 

I am the lover's gift; I am the wedding wreath; 

I am the memory of a moment of happiness; 

I am the last gift of the living to the dead; 

I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow. 

But I look up high to see only the light, 

And never look down to see my shadow. 

This is wisdom which man must learn.

... Song of the Flower, Kahlil Gibran