I once was a seed,

Writing about how I grew up too fast before I was even fully grown.

Grasping at the air,

Aching for more water.

Begging mother earth to let me live.

All so I could feel slightly bigger in a world as scary as ours.

Then, I finally became the stem I so badly wanted to be.

I explored as far as the world would let me from the small patch of dirt I was stuck in.

But, no matter what, I still had hope, expectations, and leaves

so delicate they would snap if anything heavier than a butterfly landed on them. 

I stood as tall as I could, wondering if anyone would notice me.

I was in a state of middle ground,

too young to mean anything,

yet not young enough to be fondled over.

The sun grazed me as it did everyone,

daring me to grow as fast as the other stems in my garden. 

I thought this was enough.

But then suddenly I was a flower bud on the brink of full bloom, 

The colors of the world seeped into my petals. 

And suddenly I had truly grown up,

Adulthood loomed over me like clouds blocking my petals from the sun.

When I was a seed, I wanted to be a flower,

but as a flower, oh what I wouldn’t give to live the peaceful life of a seed once more.

I remember my old life like a fond memory you get tired of hearing about.

And entangled with those memories, I can feel myself aching to be a brighter flower. 

I would leave the very ground that made me,

and I would become part of new soil that would bloom new flowers with even brighter petals

and even stronger passion. 

Those were my hopes. 

I wished them upon the stars I looked up at every night from my patch of dirt,

and they came true. 

I am now the new flower with even brighter petals and ever-growing passion,

But with new life comes new responsibility.