Wildflower

She's a wildflower, let her be,
Don't try to make her into something she's not—
She's quick-tempered, furious and hot,
And stormy and unruly like the sea.

And let the blazing passion in her eyes
Sing poetry within her heart untamed,
That in her movements like a welcome flame
Burns brightly in defiance and never dies.

And if a thousand deaths should rain on me,
I'll feel her gentle presence come alive
Within each breath I take—now brought to life—
Ignited by her spirit bold and free.
 

                                 January 19, 1994
                             --Alexander Shaumyan