The Flower

Oh! the little tiny flower,

How delicate you are!

The splendid creation of God,

With evergreen smile on face.

 

When as a bud you appear,

I await your turning in flower;

That opening of petals in air,

And spreading of wonderful colors.

 

Oh! I always thirst,

To see the evergreen smile;

Always and all the time I see,

What is the mystery of it?

 

What do you like, my dear?

Either to vanish on bunch;

Or to get plucked off,

To reach the feet of God.

 

"Yes, my dear friend", said the flower,

I shall prefer to spread;

Before the feet of God,

Rather to dry on branch.

 

I shall also be pleased,

To be crushed to get essence;

As I am the real form of God,

Who sent me to spread love, beauty and fragrance.