I stop walking and lower my foot, As I look at the sad remains Of what was once a lively bloom, Now one with the concrete plane.
The petals have been ground to just color Disconnected from the stem. The center is spread as if reaching To gather the petals again.
The stem has shared its life juice With the ants so prudently busy. Though sad, in a way, and lonely, There is still a peaceful beauty.
The petals of yellow, recklessly spread ‘Round the center of orange and gray. The stem of green, leaking pale sap, Is pretty, in its own way.
I walk away from that smashed flower, Pondering on its fate. I hope I can learn the lesson it gives In its seemingly sad estate.
There will be various trials and tests In this uphill climb of life. May I give beauty for smashes and pain, Making peace in all the strife.
The Lord Almighty, the Great Shepherd, The One who patiently leads me Through the dark valley, by the still waters, His beauty he’ll lovingly give me.
by Virginia C. McCoy