Yellow, a colour I never before put with me,

Yellow daffodils, soft and gentle, fragile yet flexible to sway in the wind.

Yellow Sunflowers, bright and bold, Strong, yet unique turning to the sun.

Both seem so different and yet, once you cut them they both slowly die.

I have been broken and my petals ripped out and left to dry up and blow away.

But someone with quiet strength has gently gathered the seed left behind and planted me again.

Now the question is, have I got the courage to push through the dirt and feel the sunshine again, is this real.

I hope so because these hands feel safe.