Beanstalk

Nothing hurts more than anticipation. The fear of the unknown.   A love yet spoken. Unspoken in desire.   Yet it sits and grows in the vase planted. An odd since of humor.  It learned to smile.   Sprouting buds and leaves. The taller it grew no longer could it hide this desire. Wrapping itself in vine.   Choosing to explore the unknown. A love yet spoken. Seen from the height of the vase planted. It learned to smile more.   Finding a love seen from behind the glass. It yearned for the sun, Sleeping only when it couldn't be seen. The sun.   The nourishment of dreams, granting peace. A means to grow almost overnight. Discovering more than this warmth felt root to stem.   The manifestation of the smallest thing. Held tight, each bud, every leaf. Symbolic of the heights reached.   Learning to speak in amplified volume. It painted itself in infatuation. Removing the price tag from the vase.   One of the greatest loves Ever grown Replanted outside. Soaring above the clouds