The Lifespan of a Flower

Laying waste the droplets near tires,
Hitting each surface that calls for its impact.
Subtly speaking, working, and in unison, 
The ground hugs the trajectory of its fall.
Unifying with the wet film and its cousins all around its body. 

Then when the smiling ball appears once again, 
Its energy permits the floating vapour,
And the collection of bulb packets.
Baby sky and The Mother’s index,
Forever weeping in ocean matrimony,

Until the last frame of your grin.
Like the tossing of a withered flower,
And its seed offspring drinking from the raindrop chalice, 
Waiting for the next summer to bloom once again.