Rebirth: A Sonnet
To be a bud upon your wilting wall
A seed of youth that strains to be expressed
Though roots enfolded seeming at a stall
Emblaze with hornet’s stinging kiss possessed
An ivy branch holds out its reaching arm
Enticing those who need not to be lost
A look around not meant to set alarm
A sheen of dew engorged with silky gloss
Infused by droplets gleaming like the sun
A petal's tip crowns from surrounding womb
Gives rise to murmurs of the little one
Disarming even Satan’s darkened tomb
A bud now blossomed standing ever tall
Withdraws from nature’s often wilting wall
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