My roots can feed on slime
The kind we find beneath the surface
Of marshes filled with water dark as mud
My stem, a stream of sap, the source of any stalk,
From which the sibling buds and branches stretch
Rises from the depth of that disgust, seemingly unstained
My leaves will float above that pestilence
From gloomy swamps and humming swarms of flies
But pearls of daylight dew can cast away the dirt and bugs
My flower, white or pink, will bloom in sunlight only
Its petals spread in crowns of eight around a yellow heart
After three ascents of moonlight, though, they turn to seeds
My life, as you can see, unfolds in three-dimension universes
It takes on hues of saintly wishes, yellow, pink, and even white
But thrives on grime from deepest grey in grooves devoid of glory
Yes, I was born on earth from seeds that sprout from clay and sand
I am living underwater where my branches yearn for Heaven’s summer
And I will be, afloat amid the sky, glad to surrender the blessing of blossom