I planted you in April, underneath a nourishing bed.
For months, while green stalks sprouted up around you, I stared at your empty patch of dirt wondering what I'd done wrong.
Hopeless. That’s what I thought you were.
But at least I’d tried.
In your place, I noticed green leaves--what I thought were weeds--pushing through your space in the dirt.
Frustrated. I must have a black thumb, I thought.
I gave up thinking your bulbs I planted in spring would ever bloom.
But then, just a week ago, those leaves grew taller, spiraling toward the sky, like nothing I’d seen before.
And at the top, a bright burst of flames.
A stunning flower I’d never dreamed you’d become.
You were worth the wait.