This is how the flowers grow;
I have watched them, and I know.
First, above the ground is seen
A tiny blade of purest green,
Reaching up and peeping forth
East and west, and south and north.
Then it shoots up day by day,
Growing in a curious way
Round a blossom, which it keeps
Warm and cozy while it sleeps.
Then the sunbeams find their way
To the sleeping bud and say,
“We are children of the sun,
Sent to wake thee, little one.”
And the leaflet, opening wide,
Shows the tiny bud inside,
Peeping with half-opened eye
On the bright and sunny sky.
Breezes from the west and south
Lay their kisses on its mouth;
Till the petals all are grown,
And the bud’s a flower blown.
This is how the flowers grow;
I have watched them and I know.
