Resurrection

The putrescent petals 

were pried away, 

and my sepal had surely scraped.

You cut me of my dignity—

but I grew 

with vulnerability.

I could've been nodeless, 

rootless in my wrath—

but instead, 

I poured my energy into blooming,

transforming pain 

into photosynthesis.

The sun reached for me.

The rain spilled over me.

The air moved through me. 

My stamen and pistil made love —

and I flourished. 

My receptacle held not only flowers,

but resilience.