when only I could help myself

Of the garden, he chose a flower

And thought he gave it water, its roots would not drink

And though he gave it sunlight, it fell into shadow

And though he held it high, it drooped and it wilted

And so he let it be

And its roots extended deeper, seeking moisture in the dry earth

And it turned with time, extending its leaves to the sun

And though it stood alone, it grew strong and it grew tall

And it bloomed when it was ready

And he loved it all the while.