at the moment of their growing, at the moment of their giving shade, at the moment of their falling

Once upon a lively hour

  there grew a sprightly flower

But before I can rightly say sprightly

  the flower struggled daily and nightly.

Trapped under the ground in a seed

  it wanted only to be freed.

So it pushed and sought for the top

  to live with the other crop.

But to no avail the flower did remain

 to struggle until the next rain.


Alone in a field today

  a flower peaked above in dismay.

But why should it be sad?

  Its hardships had made it mad.

When the sun shone bright

  the flower grew in spite

    and became a plant of bad.


How many things from before and after
all melt into gossip and laughter?