potted plant

a plant in the garden I've always been

sheltered and served by green fingers alike

the storms and the heat came casting down, no doubt,

but my eyes were shut by the green fingers, my little pot moved,

I watched the thunder strike other unfortunate ones from my own little room

then came the storm

when green fingers turned frail

"you are now too big for me to move," her voice weathered with age as she spoke

I shivered, help alas now gone,

my protruding roots shook in the fragile broken pot.

story ends with a little twist

potted plant's roots now sink deep in the soil

I'm now in the garden, my pot no more, yet I've grown taller after the lashing storms

green fingers still spoke to me, her voice frail but tinged with pride,

and now I tell her, my voice an excited whisper,

that the storm ended with a hopeful rainbow every night.