Wilted Flower

I came to you as a rose- though wilted.

Apparent was my lack of sustenance and my cry for love.

As you looked closer, you saw the cuts and bruising, as if from rough handling.

You didn't shy away.

You looked deeper into my soul, seeing life, light, warmth and- most of all- love.

As you fed me, I transformed.

The battered rose disappeared and in its place stood a beautiful wildflower.

Instead of a cultivated beauty that needs direction from those around, mine became wild.

As wild as my love for you.

Uncontrolled by even myself.