The Rocks We Carry
Whenever we are hurt inside
We face a choice to make.
Do we grow a flower in the spot.
Or find a rock to take?
The flowers that we pick are light,
The rocks weigh far far more.
The flowers’ fragrance gives us delight
what good is that rock for?
If we face hurts hurled our way,
We want that rock to throw.
But if we chose the flower instead.
A new blossom simply grows.
Perhaps the blooms are not your thing
but rocks are surely not mine.
At the end of life’s journey, I will have many blooms.
While you’ve carried those rocks all this time.