THE DEFIANT PETAL

THE DEFIANT PETAL

By Ikechukwu Frank

I am no soft echo of Nature,

No gentle token to be admired or repeated.

I am grown in dirt, in grime, in resistance—

Not plucked from heaven nor cradled by seasons.

I am born of struggle, not of Spring’s gentle kiss;

I thrive in storms, in frost, in the fire of neglect.

Summer does not pamper me,

Autumn does not rock me to sleep.

At dawn I make no announcement;

At dusk I give no farewell to the sun.

I do not dance for wind or songbirds;

I sway only because I exist, stubborn and unbending.

The plains may forget me, the air may ignore my scent;

I need no applause, no witness, no admiration.

I take from the soil what it offers,

And give nothing in return but defiance.

I am no lover’s token, no wedding wreath,

No memory of fleeting happiness,

No consolation for grief.

I claim my own joy, bear my own sorrow,

And answer to no one.

I look not only to light,

But to shadows, to cracks, to the unseen places.

Wisdom is not in flattering the sun;

It is in facing the darkness without bowing.

I am the flower that refuses the plan,

The one who will not be a symbol,

Who will not be confined, who will not be tamed.

I am myself, wholly, unapologetically,

And that is enough.

Ikechukwu frank