Yes,

I’m beautiful.

I’ve heard it before.

And it never grows old.

I’m worshiped for my looks,

my scent,

my looks.

But here’s the thing.

Life starts with me.

You see I feed people.

Every fruit comes from me.

Every potato.

Me.

Every kernel of corn.

Me.

Every grain of rice.

Me.

Me, me, me,

I know.

But it's true.

And sometimes I feed their souls.

I am their words when they have none.

I say “I love you,” without a sound.

“I’m sorry,” without a voice.

I inspire the greatest of them.

Painters,

poets,

pattern makers.

I’ve been a muse to them all.

But in my experience,

people underestimate the power of a pretty little flower.

Because their life does start with me.

And it could end without me.