A Special Flower

In spring, the trees are loaded with flowers and there is a carpet of blossoms.

I am a male white oak flower. I sit on the bough of an oak tree.

I look different to other flowers, though. I have two big petals shaped a bit like the oak leaves, but white.

I ought to be happy. But at night, I ask the stars why other flowers are so much more beautiful than me.

Although the stars don't answer, I feel like they tell me to search the world, to look for flowers more beautiful than me.

I imagine I drift on a cloud, under a rainbow. The entire world is below me and I search for the most lovely blossom of all.

But I see they are all different. Some are round, some are bell-shaped and many have delightful colors.

I thought that I was ugly. Now I see that I am unique, but I am beautiful too.

There would be no acorns without the long, dangling stamens of the male oak flower.

I am a very special flower.