Yours was so solid, your roots extending down into the earth,
Thick trunk levelling out the energy around it, deep green petals,
immovable, while the breeze swept through your branches.
Wooden heart, still full of love.
And next to you my dear, my sweet sister, it juxtaposed earth with heaven.
Tight pink bud enclosing the potential of all life within it,
Opening slowly, cautiously, to shoot illumination upwards towards the sky.
It's slim line refined and pure.
Your roots are yet to meet the earth,
The hearth of your home still burns for your return.
Mine was deep red passion, full and thick, blooming outwards and upwards,
But I know of mine already.
It was brazen next to the daisy sitting softly in the grass,
its pure white petals abundantly soft, singing to the others which lay close by.