The Most Beautiful Flower !
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the weeping
branches of an old willow tree,
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging
And as if to ruin my rare quiet day,
A young boy approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right
before me with his head tilted down
And said with excitement, "Look what I found!"
In his hand was a flower, and
what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all faded, from no rain or light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go play,
faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat by my side
And sniffed at the flower
and declared with surprise,
"It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too.
That's why I picked it; here, it's for you."
poor weed before me was dying or dead,
No bright vibrant colors, no yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he
might never leave.
So I reached out my hand and said, "Just what I need."
But instead of him placing the flower
in my hand,
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 like the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
"You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off
Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
woman beneath an old tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps in his heart, he'd been blessed with
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world, it was me.
for all of those times I myself had been blind
I vowed to see beauty, and appreciate what's mine.
I held that wilted
flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose,
And smiled as the boy, another weed in his hand,
to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.
some beauty tips ? Click Here !
Your Sleeping Posture tells what you