you are the mountain flower that
i couldn't reach,
the persistent growth that flourished
upon that sheer cliff face-
you grew so beautifully in adversity
whilst i failed to be anything
but an admirer.

your surroundings are barren,
yet even so you would still stand out
amongst the flowers of the hanging garden-
as i am, i am only worthy of imagining
the gardens of kings, let alone claim
its most prized flower.

your life is a mystery to me,
shallow roots seem so fragile
yet they tether you to the precipice
of infinity;
your existence defies gravity,
reaching to the horizon like
a soul to heaven.

i am afraid to do more than observe
and take in your scent;
your strength frightens me and
seems to grow in the face of my jealousy-
oh i am so afraid,
because i am, if not much more
fragile than you.