I beheld one day a simple flower,
Near my hand.
It brushed my fingertips with soft petals,
Sculpted from delicate wax.
I could've reached down and snatched it up.
Just like that, easily
For my hair, or bouquet, but,
Instead,
My heart whispered peace
And I knelt into the stillness of the encapsuling breeze
Smelling summer in the air,
Feeling freedom upon my face,
Leaving it's beauty to memory
As I turn away, renewed.