Flower Bulb
By: James Taylor

Here I lie beneath the surface-

below the realm of abundant life

as if in a cryogenic limbo.

I sleep in the cold dark ground-

In a shriveled and worm eaten state

like that of the cemetery masses

below the mournful feet of the sycamores.

Just as I leave my state of decay

I will rise again, like a phoenix

from the ashes, to the land of the living

and I will be a corpse no more,

but a vivacious wonder, reborn to this world.