The flower that caught fire

The flower that caught fire

I woke up this morning
with a fire in my head,
and found a little flower
where I thought my dreams were dead.

Its petals were all swirling,
like a storm inside the sun,
with red and yellow ribbons
that refused to come undone.

The green leaves stood above it,
like a crown upon its head,
with tiny drops of silver
like jewels that someone spread.

The flower started laughing,
though flowers shouldn’t do that,
and somewhere in the middle
sat a very tiny cat.

Well, maybe it was hiding,
or perhaps I’d lost my mind,
but everything was spinning
and the colours weren’t behind.

They danced around the petals,
they danced around the air,
they painted little circles
and tangled everywhere.

I reached out very gently
to touch the burning red,
but the flower whispered softly,
“Don’t you dare go back to bed.”

So I sat beside the madness
and watched the colours grow,
while autumn dropped its leaves
in a bright and golden flow.

And when the evening found me
still staring at the view,
that crazy little flower
had somehow changed me too.

For sometimes being different
is the loveliest thing to be,
especially when a flower
sets your imagination free.