The Gust Of Growth

The summers receded instantly,

Calling the monsoon winds that drifted heavily,

With amassing clouds of rain,

Waiting to pour over a mountain without a strain.

Making the wildflowers flutter through the gust,

Scared to death, thinking, how unjust.

And then the fierce storm paved way,

For drizzles followed by heavy showers like a relentless relay.

Piercing some flowers so tender,

Of which some resisted, while others surrendered.

In the end when it all drained,

Was the strongest and the luckiest that prevailed.

A bunch full of bare stems,

Ready to give birth to beautiful blossoming fragrant flower gems.