I Am (not)

I am not a red rose

with over worn commercialized

petals stiffened in syrupy words.

I am not a yellow daisy

with wispy tendrils unfurling

fake messages of lush love.

I am not a flower

to be cut, put in a vase and given

as a false hope to fix broken dreams.

No, I am a vine clinging to fences on the outskirts

of life, crawling the perimeters, and growing

unpruned in any direction I so desire. Exploring new

visions with every dawning of the sun’s golden

orb and dreaming new adventures with each rising

of the moon’s gentle blue glow. I surround my

expanding territory, like a mother encircling

her arms around her children with soft love.

I am the violet-blue guardian,

I am a morning glory.