Its swings in the wind , not fighting,yet it stays rooted . denying any movement Its beauty know by all. The wind with attempt to rattle this flower , to shake and destroy it. All of the winds attempt are futile. All that the flower loses is its petals , its loses some and gains some over time . Yet by the power of a simple child , the flower can be plucked.
We are all flowers , our beauty seen by someone with eyes .
The wind is the obstacles we face in life .
Our petals our are the materials , we gain and lose depending on the obstacles
The child is death. with death comes a life