The Blossom

Once upon a field of snow,

A single flower was to grow,

Its small red petals losing life,

Its color draining in its strife.

The winter wanted death and loss,

In the wind the bud did toss,

The flailing petals, shaking stem,

Had brought it closer to its end.

Until the sun had shown its face,

The melting snow it did erase,

The blossom then could surely thrive,

Through anything it could survive.