The Flower Head
The Flower Head
I see a flower floating down the middle of the stream
It causes me to stop in my walk.
Why a flower floating alone, what a strange scene
The petals all tight, just the flower head, and no stalk.
Did it drop or was it cast just, like the proverbial bread?
It bobbed up and down disappeared and then returned
I saw some petals had separated from the head.
They started to drift from the flower as it churned.
And the gap grew wider and wider
Soon it was so wide it couldn’t be closed, the water a real divider.
It made me think was it me as the flower head spun in the stream
Was I the head were my petals my friends?
We stick together through life’s rich pattern and schemes
I watch for a while but the stream bends
When the going gets tough and the water gets rough
Some petals break away and drift off
But some stick on the head and the water they tread
They will stick with the head, and at life’s troubles they scoff.
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