I hope I may bloom like the Iris one day. They grow straight and sleek as blades cutting towards the sky. My favorite flower only blossoms for a few stray weeks in the summer, but oh, what showy diadems they bare under blue airs! Fragile and fleeting and utterly worth every hour it takes to grow and mature into something that defies gravity with beauty.
Many years ago, I hoped to burst into unyielding incandescence. But now, I bide my time and grow in the soft dark of my dreams, ever so slowly constructing a transient tiara of ink and pages.