The Most Beautiful Flower

One of my friends had sent this across....its' beautiful....


The park bench was deserted
as I sat down to read,
Beneath the long, straggly branches
of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent
on dragging me down.
And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me,
all tired from play.
He stood right before me
with his head tilted down,
And said with great excitement,
"Look what I found!"
In his hand was a flower,
and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn down
not enough rain, or too little light,
Wanting him to take his dead flower
and go off to play,
I faked a smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating
he sat next to my side,
And placed the flower to his nose and declared
with overacted surprise,
"It smells pretty and it's beautiful too.
That's why I picked it; here it's for you!"
The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colours, orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it,
or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower and replied,
"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 the 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 to play,
Unaware of the impact he's had on my day.
I sat there and wondered
how he managed to see,
A self-pitying woman
beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know about
my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been
blessed with true sight.
Through the eyes of a blind child,
at last I could see,
The problem was not with the world;
the problem was me.
And for all of those times
I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life,
and appreciate every second that's mine.
And then I held that wilted flower
up to my nose and breathed in the fragrance
of a beautiful rose.
And I smiled as I watched that young boy,
another weed in his hand,
About to change the life
of an unsuspecting old man.