Seeing Is Believing
by
Melissa Rives
I wish you could see this flower I’m holding,
It’s petals still fresh from the dew.
It’s blood crimson color alive in my hand,
Angels kisses deciding the hue.
It’s a simple reminder that heaven exists,
With a delicate stroke it is painted.
Even when all around it seems shadows have fallen,
Its beauty can never be tainted.
Just one tiny symbol of life’s sweetest treasures,
Amidst the thorns that have scratched at your skin.
With a fragrance that enters the spirit and soul,
If we just stop to drink it all in.
Though you’ll never quite see this beauty I hold,
For it’s winter and the flowers long dead.
But I see it in spite of the season or day,
Its creation inside of my head.
If we just stop to see all the beautiful things,
Smell the flowers that grow from the mire…
We can recapture beauty when it seems there is none,
Imagination is all it requires.
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Copyright 2002 by Melissa Rives.
