A rose will bloom and die
A caterpillar may convert to a butterfly
A tree will stay up for the moon
A cicada will sing its last tune
To saunter through the fields under the forbearing stars
How they conjure peace and solitude from a distance so far
To cherish every breath of time before the last petal falls
How meager our considerations to savor this short life at all
-Toxic Scribe
Toxic Scribe: Writings and Rumination 
The poem makes me reflect a lot on everyday objects that we consider to be granted in life.
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