A single flower beckons from the brambles,
Serenely minuscule, near overlooked,
But like a distant star against the night sky,
She shines more brightly ‘gainst the brown-branched brook.
Her simple, graceful petals, far from garish,
Convey a purity, unmarred by man
or passing wilde-beast who might have trampled,
I wonder where she matters in God’s plan.
His eye is surely on the chirping sparrow,
Yet smaller, and more helpless opes this bloom,
Her lifespan hardly more than blink of eye,
But had I passed her by, I’d never have known.
A song of inspiration (I was listening)
caused me pause to spy the bud a-glistening.