Power of Fragrance

 Vulnerable a flower, stands on that meadow’s green,

Horizon is the limit of what it has seen.

It takes no wind but just breeze for this delicate one to lean,

I wonder what this stagnant entity, to the world could mean.

The sun’s rays nurture

Yet gives no comforting feel as that of a feather

The same source, when harsh feels like it’s trying to smother.

I wonder if he is even aware, how much to the delicate being does bother.

The lost energy is what, through water she tries to re-gain

 Pouring rain stands on her laying all stress and strain,

All her efforts to refresh go in vain;

It does nothing but adds to her slain.

It takes her a year long to understand the cycle is certain to repeat,

Stands she, against all odds confident, though she doesn’t seem 

It’s her fragrance that none can destroy be it the pressure or the heat.