Wild Flowers

In a quaint, sleepy garden,

Between the neat rows of curated flowers.

Of many shapes and many kinds,

There peaks a small,

bright,

tiny,

flower bud.

But as I look closer, there is another one...

Then another….and another!

More and more bloom to greet the surface.

With a cacophony of color.

Dancing with the breeze, without a care in the world.

Even though so misplaced,

it's right where it should be.

Because despite it all, it grows.

And more grows.

And more,

and more.

And soon…its not just a flower garden anymore.

It's a home of chaos and beauty.