Look at me, the unopened bud,
Standing singularly in my colourless state,
Amidst all that richness around me.
Bloom I will not to merely fit in.
And so, I choose to remain firmly shut –
Undaunted by what the naked eye sees as big and beautiful.
But in me too lies a little prayer –
that I am soon plucked by someone, anyone.
Even while I stand in this form -
unopened, singular and colourless.
So that even as I wither away -
I remain to the naked eye the bud that I now am.
Shoots sprouting from twigs - ever seen them?
Bowing towards earth in humble obeisance :)
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