Cholla Gardens

Each morning this land meets heat without end,
an agony that feels no promise comes to mend.

Yet deeply rooted beneath the hardened earth,
a flora chose to stand despite the dearth.

It does not bear soft, gentle leaves, but spines
that mark the borders of its sleeves.

Its spines were formed not out of spite or fear,
but wisdom learned through trials severe.

Through desert pain, it learned to guard its ground,
holding fast to life where little can be found.

It does not bow to earn a favored gaze,
nor soften form to suit another’s ways.

In stillness lives a power, calm and sure,
a strength that stands because it must endure.

And when it blooms, a quiet beauty appears,
a fleeting grace against the weight of years.

The Cholla knows, though deserts test its will,
it blooms, a splendor only time will unveil.