She is a flower of Trinitaria...

 
She is a flower of Trinitaria...
She grew from the foot, as Zitarrosa says...
There is no sun or cracked earth
that prevent her stubborn,
colourful and unrenounceable blossoming...
She never sold simulacra,
and she doesn't buy them either...
The florist's petals do not concern her
because she knows of perishable beauties
and of sighs that expire...
She is a Trinitarian and only knows how to
to blossom and blow in the breeze...
She is a petal that floats... Wise witch...
Burst of colour...
Beautiful rebellious stridency
that always makes itself seen...
Soft, delicate petal,
and a thorn that digs in...
Because that's how she is, even if she doesn't look for it...
She doesn't give, she doesn't take away... She is... Indisputably, it is...
Aroma and deep essence
With feet of lead and flight of a comet...
She is the true fullness...
So said a hummingbird to her
With green iridescence on its wings...