A free-verse poem about a child's versus adult's view of the world. |
The father was preparing to mow the always manicured lawn when his three-year-old son came running across the grass. Abruptly the boy stopped and knelt close to the ground. The father walked over to see what had caught his son’s eye. A weed! A weed had sprung up among the orderly blades of grass. The man reached down to extract it so he could throw it in the trash. Seeing this, the child shouted, “No! It’s pretty.” The father now saw petite, sky-blue flowers bedecking the weed’s stems. “Please don’t kill the pretty flowers,” the son pleaded with voice and eyes. “It’s just a weed, son. I don’t want weeds growing in my lawn.” “But I like the pretty flowers, Dad.” Later, when his wife brought the man a glass of water to quench his thirst, she saw a perfect, evenly mown lawn – except for a small square left untouched. “What’s this all about?” she asked. “That, my dear, is our son’s garden of pretty flowers. He sees only the blue flowers and not the sprawling weed.” She answered with a knowing smile, “So did we all once, when we were still young and innocent. We saw the good and simple beauty in life that adults have long learned to ignore. It’s a shame that grown-ups fail to see the beauty of life that surrounds them.” The man replied, “It’s still a weed!” “All too soon our son also will see only the weed and no longer will see its pretty flowers. We can’t prevent it from happening,” the mother said as tears meandered down her cheeks. “Good! Then I can have a perfect lawn.” Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |