It had just fallen from a tree
No one was there
The blazing sun burns its outer shell
Critters come to feast
That's when the Farmer came and covered it in his fleece
No longer was the sun burning
No longer was the seed alone
The glass seed was safe
The Farmer picked up the seed
Ever so gently placed it in a pot
Covered it with soil
And he watered the glass seed
As this nourishing cold feeling flushed the seed
It felt full
Fuller than it had for all its life…as short as it was
With the Farmer's help it started to grow
With the Farmer's help it did not once crack
Until that funny honey bee-
It was a strong Honey Bee you see-
Did not scare easy,
So when the Farmer went to shield the now glass sprout
Why, it slipped right past him!
Hello Sprout, too weak and fragile to protect yourself?
A young flower like you needs to get strong to survive
Here's my pollen
And so with a flick or its nimble foot
the sprout felt that same nourishment it had all those days ago,
It even seemed to finally have enough energy to exclaim-
What a wonderful thing your pollen is, won't you return Honey Bee?
And return it did,
Several trips in fact!
Bringing more and more
Soon the little sprout was proudly not a seedling
Showing off its leaves to the Honey Bee
With as warm a smile Bee's could make
It truly smiled
Yet the Farmer and the funny Honey Bee could never get along
Always fighting, an endless battle of swatting and buzzing.
If only they knew it would be…damning
…
It was a Sunday when it happened
The funny Honey Bee had just given the last of her daily pollen to her
The gentle Farmer had just emptied his water bucket on her
She was so happy, and ready to bloom too
You see, thanks to both their efforts they had transformed her into a bud
She was perfect, uncracked and clear…
Unaware, and naive.
The gentle Farmer seemed giddy that morning
The box he unpacked seemed to hold a type of stick
The stick had this red mesh at the end of it.
For a second the gentle Farmer wasn't himself
That's when the funny Honey Bee came through the window
Grinning ear to ear, buzzing loudly for all to hear
She shouted of new pollen, and snatching honey just for the glass bud
The bud flailed waving its leaves, but it could not speak
For the Farmer had forgotten to water it
To the Honey Bee it seemed inviting so it buzzed and buzzed
Yet the only thing the glass bud could do was wheeze and croak
And by the time the Honey Bee knew what was wrong it had landed
It was too late.
The Honey Bee had cracked the bud-
Its missing arm
The rest of her was gone.
With a loud THUD it had been over before both realized what happened.
Only a red flash and more red followed.
The Honey Bee was gone-and it was the Farmers fault.
It had been the first time the bud ever seen the Farmer's face
Scraggly, unfitting of the Farmer who had protected her for so long
Whose mighty back and body shielded her from the sun, and the rain.
Perhaps it was one of life's great ironies that the bud would bloom here
It was unsightly, nor was it pretty, it was what it was.
And as the petal emerged the cracked glass peeled
Each time a tear dripped, a beautiful blonde petal fluttered out
The process was painless, but the flower was in pain
She wasn't glass, not clear, not fragile.
Not even cracked, there was no evidence of her damaged heart
Maybe that's why, when the Man turned he was smiling
Smiling not at what he had killed, but created.
Yet the Flower only saw his aloofness killing her friend.
Her disgust became so unbearable she turned to the sun
For staring at what burns was better than that Man.
The Glass seed had Bloomed into a Sunflower