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A Tiny Flower Grew
I had a gift given to me by an old friend;
With more potential than I can comprehend.
The gift was a wrapped up, enclosed in a box;
When opened it was filled with many small rocks.
They were so beautiful in shape, unique in hue;
And in the middle of the rocks, a tiny flower grew.
I looked and pondered the gift for a long while;
The longer I looked, the bigger became my smile.
I listened to the wisdom from my friend's simple gift;
As I began to hear, my soul received a huge lift.
I called up that friend to say to him, I thank you;
I love in the middle of the rocks, a tiny flower grew.
The friend chuckled softly, then he gently spoke;
‘These were stones I found under that old oak.
This is where we used to spend so many hours talking;
Back before our lives became distanced by our walking.
Separated by a lifetime now, seeing if still you knew;
But I didn't plant anything, a tiny flower just grew.'
The rocks I did remember, as we sat under that tree;
Those days I will always cherish, this I do guarantee.
This gift becomes even more precious now that I know;
There were only the rocks, seeds you never did sow.
Our souls are joined eternally by this uncommon glue;
For in the middle of those rocks, a tiny flower grew.
14Jun09
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