Rebirth.

Okay, this is another guess-the-subject creative writing exercise.
Guess correctly, and I'll give you a prize or something of that nature!
Game on.
HINT: Looking at the poem's shape might help.

"Rebirth"

a purple flower blooms from the seething mass on the table,
sick in its unfinished vulnerability,
flailing, stretching out wide:
a desperate universal sign
as the flower is plucked from its nourishing source,
its safe and natural haven

and

immaturely transplanted into an ocean.
waves uniform and green breathe filtered air
so
maybe it’s an aquarium,
only there’s a baptized gardener
immersed entirely,
digging swiftly around roots,
overturning soil with intense precision,
warming the shriveling petals with his breath
to counteract the pallor of so much
hypoxia,

easing his pace
as

stability is restored
in a heroic underwater rescue
(at least for now).

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EDIT: No one guessed! Well, I didn't really expect anyone to. It's shaped like an EKG. It's an emergency caesarean delivery of a premature baby that I watched.