The Most Beautiful Flower

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read

Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree

Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown

For the world was intent on dragging me down


And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day

A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play

He stood right before me with his head tilted down

And said with great excitement, “Look what I found”


In his hand was a flower and what a pitiful sight

With its petals all worn – not enough rain, or too little light

Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play

I faked a small smile and then shifted away


But instead of retreating he sat next to my side

And placed the flower to his nose

And declared with overacted surprise

“It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful, too”

“That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you”


The weed before me was dying or dead

Not vibrant of colours: orange, yellow or red

But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave

So I reached for the flower, and replied, “Just what I need”


But instead of him placing the flower in my hand

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He held it mid-air without reason or plan

It was then that I noticed for the very first time

That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind


I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun

As I thanked him for picking the very best one

“You’re welcome,” he smiled and then ran off to play

Unaware of the impact he’d had on my day.


I sat there and wondered how he managed to see

A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree

How did he know of my self-indulged plight

Perhaps from his heart, he’d been blessed with true sight


Through the eyes of a blind child, at last, I could see

The problem was not with the world; the problem was me

And for all of those times, I myself had been blind

I vowed to see the beauty in life

And appreciate every second that’s mine


And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose

And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose

And smiled as I watched that young boy

Another weed in his hand

About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man


Meditation: I would have lost heart, unless I had believed That I would see the goodness of the Lord In the land of the living. – Psalm 27:13

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