The flower
One day as I was walking
I came upon a house
with many lovely flowers.
I stopped to admire
the gardener's work.
And then I spotted one flower
upon the ground.
It lay near my feet.
I bent down and noticed
that its stem had been cut,
the flower just abandoned.
I wondered who would have done
such a senseless thing.
I picked it up
and saw its petals
had begun to droop.
Some drops of morning dew
slid tearlike to the earth.
Two fell upon my hand.
I slowly turned the flower
and saw that all its parts were there.
I did not know how long ago
it had been cut
but its scent was still alive.
I thought that I could
take it home
and put it in a dish.
Perhaps some water would
restore the petals
to their proper state.
But then I realized that the gardener
should be the one to nurse it,
he or she knew best.
And so I walked up to the door
and rang the bell.
The door was opened soon
and I told how I had found
that flower as I was passing by.
The gardener held it close.
I knew it would
be cared for even better
than I could.
I walked back home,
the sight and smell
of that one flower
still lingering on my mind
I came upon a house
with many lovely flowers.
I stopped to admire
the gardener's work.
And then I spotted one flower
upon the ground.
It lay near my feet.
I bent down and noticed
that its stem had been cut,
the flower just abandoned.
I wondered who would have done
such a senseless thing.
I picked it up
and saw its petals
had begun to droop.
Some drops of morning dew
slid tearlike to the earth.
Two fell upon my hand.
I slowly turned the flower
and saw that all its parts were there.
I did not know how long ago
it had been cut
but its scent was still alive.
I thought that I could
take it home
and put it in a dish.
Perhaps some water would
restore the petals
to their proper state.
But then I realized that the gardener
should be the one to nurse it,
he or she knew best.
And so I walked up to the door
and rang the bell.
The door was opened soon
and I told how I had found
that flower as I was passing by.
The gardener held it close.
I knew it would
be cared for even better
than I could.
I walked back home,
the sight and smell
of that one flower
still lingering on my mind
posted by Al Johnson at 8:12 AM
2 Comments:
OMG, I love this so much Al. It brought tears to my eyes. How I wish it could have been that easy to be mended....how I wish the one who made the first cut could possible have righted his wrongs and learned to appreciate what was before him. I wish you so much peace, my friend....take gentle care.
Tina
Thank you for your poignant response, Tina. I'm glad you found some meaning in this piece. I wrote it early one morning this week.
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