The Flower

A flower on the roadside lay
Its petals to the sky.
I would have passed and let it stay
For time was short that summer day.
I stopped and held it anyway
Yet did not know the reason why.

Against the backdrop of the road,
It grew defiantly.
Where here, so out of place, it showed
That life can thrive and make abode
Where wind and rain and snow erode
The place where it was set to be.

I pondered on that flower rare
With time I didn’t own,
And thoughtfully began to stare
Upon the flower lying there
While wond’ring how a thing so fair
Had on that dirty roadside grown.

I went along the road to see
If other flowers grew.
Beside that road, it seemed to me
That weeds grew up quite readily.
Of flowers I saw but two or three
And wondered why there were so few.

I took one with me as I went
Preserving it with care.
I held it as a monument
To lessons learned and time well spent.
That evening by my bed I bent
And thanked the power that put them there.