Unfinished
Dull, gray
Bulky, rough
Hard, inconvenient
My slow decay
On the other side of the field
Vibrant, delicate
Whimsical, Alluring
Petals protruding,
boasting beauty
I take it in,
not a fiber of envy-
a recent development
But it’s approaching,
The withering
Its impermanence,
my only constant
My jealousy wilted away,
I simply capture the view now
The essence,
of a rather quick yet captivating life
A new kind of petal every spring,
Only to disappear without a sincere farewell
But my decay-
a gradual process
In my humbling vessel,
my spirit is pure,
But they don’t see that,
only the way the light dances
reflects
bounces
off of their glorious petals
But they do say,
Narcissus flowers,
they are the world’s favorites,
despite the self-absorption
even their roots-
the filthiest piece of them-
is full of purpose
The short-lived glory,
worthless