Nectar for a Bud

The tears of an older self that withers

Are the nectar for the growth of a bud

That pushes into the void of space

Unsure of the flower it becomes.

The tears dry - the self is gone.

A new day shines on something pink

Never meant to see the light of day.

The pain recedes; the suffering ceases.

The sun is happy to have a new flower.

The bloom is complete, the petals unfurl.

The flower is happy for the sun, too.